THE  BOY  C4PTIVE 


OF  THE  TEXAS  MIER 
.  EXPEDITION 


AT   LOS  ANGELES 


ROBERT 

ERNEST  COWAN 

•; 


. 


Painting  by  Bock  "I've  kept  my  promise' 


TflEB01T(&PTIVE 

OF  THE 

TEXAS 


GOOCH-IW 

I 


BY 


BERS 
ART, 


Author  of 

'Face  to  Face  With  the  Mexicans,"  "Christmas  in  Old  Mexico,' 
and  other  Short  Stories,  Sketches  and  Essays 


Revised,  Reprinted  and  Republished  by  the  Author 
Illustrations  by  Bock 


Copyright,  1909,  by 
Mrs.  Fanny  Chambers  Gooch  Iglehart 


PRESS  OF 
J.  R.  WOOD  PRINTING  CO. 


DEDICATION. 

It  has  been  my  purpose  herein  to  portray  the  dra 
matic  and  picturesque  story  of  the  young  Texas  lad 
who  was  the  hero  of  the  fated  Mier  Expedition. 
That  was  a  stern  and  stressful  period,  and  one  lit 
by  revolutionary  fires,  in  which  men,  women  and 
children  bore  a  part.  It  is,  therefore,  fitting  that  this 
volume  should  be  affectionately  dedicated  to  the  pio 
neer  mothers  and  fathers  who  early  espoused  the 
cause  of  Texas  independence,  and  through  their  supe 
rior  courage,  energy  and  intelligence  won  the  price 
less  treasure  of  this  Great  Southwestern  Empire. 


This  book  is  affectionately  inscribed  to  Mrs.  Re 
becca  Gilleland  Fisher,  who,  as  a  child  of  six  years, 
was  rescued  from  the  Indians  by  Albert  /Sydney 
Johnson  as  one  who  lived  the  life  herein  portrayed. 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 

The  stirring  scenes  and  events  as  chronicled  in 
these  pages  were  but  the  outcome  of  the  border  con 
tiguity  of  the  Latin  and  Anglo-Saxon  races,  and  the 
struggle  of  each  for  supremacy.  No  unnatural  con 
ditions  existed,  but  Latin  ownership  and  occupancy 
of  the  coveted  territory  for  several  centuries,  made 
their  aggression  to  them  a  matter  of  just  and  right 
eous  enterprise.  The  Anglo-Saxon,  a  newly  consti 
tuted  power,  claimed  the  right  to  overthrow  the  Latin 
and  take  possession  of  his  territory,  and  thus,  moved 
on  the  bitter  feud  and  contention.  What  is  known 
in  Texas  as  the  Mier  Expedition  is  only  one  of  the 
many  bitter  episodes  forming  a  successful  issue  in  the 
possession  of  Texas. 

In  the  preparation  of  the  romantic  and  picturesque 
life  of  John  C.  C.  Hill,  a  boy  of  thirteen  years  of  age, 
he  having  been  an  integral  part  of  the  Mier  Expedition, 
it  has  become  necessary  to  recount  the  mishaps  and 
misfortunes  of  the  more  tragic  parts  of  this  Expedi 
tion-  In  doing  so,  the  author  has  had  no  desire 
whatever  to  arouse  a  feeling  of  bitterness  or  antago 
nisms  upon  the  part  of  either  the  Mexicans  or  the 
Texans,  for  her  sympathies  have  been  deeply  enlisted 
upon  each  side  of  the  question.  The  wrongs  and 
mistakes,  if  any,  as  carried  forward  by  both  sides 
at  the  time,  have  passed  far  down  upon  the  receding 
pages  of  history,  and  not  one  person  lives  today 
who  participated  in  this  affair.  Each  opposing  ele 
ment  did  what  it  felt  was  right  at  the  time ;  succeed- 


ing  generations  will  judge  fairly  and  justly  the  mer 
its  of  both  sides. 

With  Christmas  of  1910,  will  be  recorded  the  68th 
anniversary  of  the  siege  of  Mier,  and  in  this  auspic 
ious  year  is  being  celebrated  the  great  centennial  of 
Mexican  Independence.  Border  complications  have 
ceased  to  exist  and  a  firm  and  lasting  friendship  has 
long  since  been  established  not  only  between  Mexico 
and  the  United  States,  but  Texas,  the  old  time  enemy 
and  erstwhile  colonial  dependency  of  that  grand  com 
monwealth,  is  now  a  good  friend  whose  citizens,  in 
large  numbers,  take  up  their  residence  successfully  in 
that  country.  Such  unexpected  possibilities  could 
only  have  been  achieved  by  that  great  hero,  patriot 
and  Statesman,  General  President  Porfirio  Diaz,  to 
whom  has  been  given  the  power  to  redeem  and  save 
his  country  and  representatives  from  the  whole  world 
have  been  invited  to  come  within  his  broad  domain 
and  assist  in  celebrating  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
and  perfect  successes  in  nation-building,  known  to 
modern  man.  In  the  brief  space  of  thirty -two  years 
has  all  this  been  achieved,  and  General  Diaz  has  ac 
complished,  in  brief  space  mentioned,  what  it  would 
have  required  100  years  in  any  other  country. 

The  Author  of  this  story  who  has  recorded  the 
scenes  and  events  nearly  three  quarters  of  a  century 
past,  begs  to  extend  her  heartiest  felicitations  to  Gen 
eral  Diaz  and  his  brave  and  patriotic  people  in  the 
wonderful  advancement  made. 

Respectfully, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 

In  connection  with  this  story,  readers  of  this  book 
will  appreciate  and  enjoy  the  beautiful  drawings  and 
etchings  of  Mr.  Charles  Peter  Bock,  the  gifted  Texan 
artist  and  well  known  landscape  painter.  Mr.  Bock 
is  an  American,  of  German  parentage,  born  in  Ger 
many,  and  in  every  sense,  is  a  true  American.  He  was 
an  honor  graduate  of  the  Art  Institute  of  Chicago, 
and  later  travelled  and  studied  in  the  various  art  cen 
tres  of  Europe ;  after  which  on  his  return  to  America 
he  became  a  citizen  of  Texas,  and  he  has  elected  with 
his  brush  to  make  known  the  beauties  of  the  solitude 
of  the  semi-desert  country  lying  between  Dallas  and 
the  Staked  Plains,  and  his  landscapes  painted  in 
this  isolated  region  are  marvels  of  beauty,  and  with 
his  brush  he  is  showing  a  portion  of  Texas  never  be 
fore  shown  in  art,  and  which  will  soon  become  a 
memory.  San  Antonio  is  soon  to  become  the  home 
of  this  accomplished  artist. 

To  Dr.  Alfredo  J.  J.  Austin,  an  English  physician 
who  has  resided  at  Mier  for  almost  forty  years,  the 
writer  is  deeply  indebted  for  photographs  of  scenes 
in  and  about  Mier,  and  also  for  much  valuable  histor 
ical  data,  which  has  enabled  the  author  to  correct 
numerous  errors  which  have  been  continuously  pub 
lished  in  histories  referring  to  scenes  which  were  en 
acted  at  this  period. 


To  Mr.  Frederic  B.  Guernsey,  the  able  editor  of  the 
Mexican  Herald,  for  much  interest  in  the  publication 
of  this  volume. 

To  Mr.  Fenton  R.  McCreary,  charge  de  affairs  for 
the  United  States,  now  minister  to  Honduras,  I  am 
deeply  indebted. 

To  Mr.  Percy  Cox,  Mexico's  great  photographer,  I 
am  under  obligations  for  photographs  which  I  could 
not  have  otherwise  obtained. 

To  the  Reverend  Fathers  of  the  Cathedral,  who 
gave  Mr.  Cox  access  to  the  Archbishop's  Gallery,  that 
he  might  obtain  the  portrait  of  the  Archbishop 
Posado. 

To  Mr.  W.  F.  McCaleb,  and  the  Hon.  Carlos  Bee, 
of  San  Antonio,  for  many  courtesies  and  also  to  the 
Hon.  Enrique  Ornelas,  Mexico's  Consul  at  San 
Antonio. 

Engravings  and  etchings  planned  and  executed  by 
Mr.  Frederic  B.  Wieners,  Southern  Division  Mana 
ger  Barnes-Crosby  Company,  San  Antonio. 

To  the  Press  of  Texas,  and  to  the  Superintendent, 
Principals  and  Teachers  in  the  public  and  private 
schools  of  Texas,  and  to  the  Mothers  Clubs  through 
out  the  State,  for  their  generous  recognition  of  this 
story. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


Chapter  Page 

I  The  Young  Volunteer          .         .         .  23 

II  Old  Foes  and  New  Troubles       .         .  35 
III  San  Antonio  de  Bexar          .         .         .  51 

IV  On  the  Trail          .....  71 

V  At  Laredo              91 

VI  "Mier"— The  Battle               .         .      /.  115 

VII  The  Surrender               .         .         .         .  133 

VIII  The  Little  Captive        .         .         .         .  1 39 

IX  Another  Kind  of  Courage             .         .  153 

X  Prisoners  Start  to  Matamoros      .         .  167 

XI  AtCamargo 181 

XII  Arrival  at  Matamoros           .         .         .  193 

XIII  At  the  Archbishop's  Palace          .         .  209 

XIV  Before  the  Great  Dictator             .         .  227 

XV  General  Green's  Account              .         .  245 

XVI  The  Drawing  of  the  Bean             .         .  255 

XVII  Santa  Anna  and  Orlando              .         .  275 

XVIII  Off  for  Home 293 

XIX  Juan's  Later  Career      .         .         .         .  30 1 

Addenda  3 1  I 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Painting  by  Bock  "I've  kept  my  promise" 

Title  page  drawing,  The  Boy  Captive 

Portrait  of  the  author  Page 

A  typical  pioneer  Home       .         .         .         .         .27 

Sam  Houston          .......      37 

The  dashing  and  gallant  Capt.  Jack  Hayes  .          .41 
San  Fernando  Cathedral        .         .         .         .         .53 

The  Alamo 53 

Big  Foot  Wallace 59 

Mission  Concepcion       ......       75 

Floating  down  the  Rio  Grande     .         .         ..91 

Breakfast  on  the  Plains 99 

Map 118 

Glimpses  of  Mier  .          .          .          .         .          .         .119 

Cock  Fighting         .          .          .          .          .         .          .    1 30 

"I've  kept  my  promise1'  .         .         .          .         .    1 35 

General  Pedro  Ampudia       .         .         .         .         .141 

Juan  Christobal  Colon  Gil     .          .          .          .          .155 

Noisy  cart  with  pancake  wheel     .         .         .         .    1 68 

Desolation     .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .    1 76 

A  cattle  corral        .         .         .         .         .         .         .    1 88 

Headquarters  of  General  Ampudia  at  Matamoras    1 93 
A  man  Juan  met  on  the  road        .         .         .         .197 

Window  in  garden  of  the  Archbishop's  Palace   .    209 
Entrance  to  Archbishop's  Palace          .         .         .210 
Archbishop  Posada       .         .         .         .         .         .212 

General  Antonio  Lopez  de  Santa  Anna       .          .227 
Vice-President  Gomez  Farias        .          .          .          .230 

General  Jose  Maria  Torn  el    .          .         .          .          .232 

General  T.  J.  Green       ......    245 

The  Bishop's  Palace,  Monterey    .         .         .         .247 

Old  building  in  which  the  beans  were  drawn      .    257 

The  Plaza  in  Mier 259 

Big  Foot  Wallace  Lost  in  the  Desert    .         .         .    265 
Orlando  Phelps 291 

(From  an  old  portrait  taken  at  the  age  of  fifty  years) 

John  C.  C.  Hill      .        .        .        ...        .303 

(This  photograph  -was  taken  on  the  occasion  of  his  first  return 
home  at  the  age  of  26  years,  having  graduated  as  a  mining  engi 
neer  from  the  Mineria  College.) 

Juan  C.  C.  Hill  and  his  descendants     .         .         .    309 


INTRODUCTOEY  CHAPTER. 

THE    Spanish   flag  has  been   called   "the   flag 
of  gold  and  blood,"  but  it  might  well  be 
called  ''The  flag  of  poetry  and  romance." 
Wherever   it  has  waved   it  has   been  a  magician's 
wand  conjurng  up  brilliant  scenes  from  the  fairy 
land  of  song  and  story. 

La  Huella  de  los  Espanoles,  (Footprints  of  the 
Spaniards),  have  traversed  regions  far  and  wide, 
extending  from  the  far  north  to  the  last  limit  of 
La  Tierra  del  Fuego  (land  of  fire  and  heat) — the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  Americas — but  the  signifi 
cant  fact  remains  that  no  matter  in  whatsoever  coun 
try  of  the  New  World  the  Spaniard  planted  his 
footsteps,  or  wrote  his  firma,  neither  passing  of  cen 
turies  nor  later  occupation  by  the  stronger  Saxon 
race  has  been  able  to  obliterate  or  dislodge  them. 
The  laws  of  these  countries  continue  to  be  read  in  the 
original  Spanish ;  the  Castillian  tongue  is  still  spoken ; 
the  architecture  retains  its  time  honored  place,  and 
the  cities,  mountains,  streams,  trees,  flowers,  and 
shrubs  still  are  known  by  their  sweet,  Spanish  names. 
Some  of  the  wide  expanse  of  territory  conquered 
by  the  Spaniards  in  North  America  has  been  lost. 
This  is  true  of  Texas,  Nevada,  California,  New  Mex 
ico,  Arizona,  half  of  Colorado,  all  of  Utah,  a  part  of 
the  Indian  Territory,  and  of  Kansas.  The  Latin 
loves  an  even,  warm  climate,  so  that  the  more  north- 


16  The  Boy  Captive 


era  portions  of  these  provinces  were  never  made  the 
actual  dwelling  places  of  the  early  Spanish  colonists, 
but  in  the  southern  portions  Spain  obtained  the  best 
results,  and  the  history  of  these  regions  is  replete 
with  Spanish  conquest  and  Mexican  revolution. 

The  charm  of  the  mystic  spell  which  hovers  over 
any  country  in  which  Spain  has  held  dominion,  lends 
and  unfailing  interest  to  those  early  Spanish  regions 
of  which  Texas  was  once  a  part. 

Permanency  was  given  to  the  Spanish  occupation 
of  Texas  about  the  year  1731,  when  by  order  of  the 
King  of  Spain,  four  hundred  families  of  the  better 
class  in  the  Canary  Islands  were  bidden  to  establish 
the  right  of  title  of  his  Majesty,  the  King,  to  the  prov 
ince  of  Texas,  known  then  as  the  New  Philippines." 
But  only  about  sixteen  of  these  families  responded  to 
this  call,  consisting  of  about  fifty-six  persons.  They 
landed  at  Vera  Cruz,  and  proceeded  slowly,  taking 
many  months,  perhaps  a  year,  over  the  long  journey 
through  Mexico  to  San  Antonio.  These  were  the  first 
to  erect  homes  and  give  an  aspect  of  permanency  to 
the  settlement.  Subsequent  political  developments 
placed  the  Anglo-Americans  in  possession  of  several 
Spanish  countries.  Among  these  was  Texas,  and  in 
this  domain  the  practical-minded  American  mingled 
with  the  romantic  Spaniard. 

Many  states  contributed  to  Texas  men  of  iron  will 
and  exalted  character,  worthy  of  the  citizenship  of 
any  country.  The  first  was  Moses  Austin,  who  was  a 


The  Boy  Captive  17 


native  of  Connecticut,  but  had  lived  for  some  time  in 
Missouri,  and  hearing  good  accounts  of  the  new  terri 
tory  in  the  southwest,  conceived  a  plan  for  a  colony. 
Stephen  F.  Austin,  his  son,  organized  and  made  this 
colony  a  success. 

David  G.  Burnet,  the  first  President  of  the  Repub 
lic,  was  from  New  Jersey ;  Sam  Houston,  who,  at  San 
Jacinto  struck  the  decisive  blow  which  liberated 
Texas  from  Latin  rule,  a  native  of  Virginia,  had 
been  Governor  of  Tennessee ;  Mirabeau  B.  Lamar,  the 
poet  President  of  the  Republic,  from  Georgia;  Anson 
Jones,  the  last  President  from  Massachusetts.  To 
their  credit,  be  it  said,  that  several  distinguished 
Spanish  and  Mexican  officers,  united  with  the  Anglo- 
Americans,  and  among  them  Lorenzo  de  Zavala, 
Ruiz,  Navarro,  and  others  who  gave  their  best 
support  to  the  liberation  of  Texas,  and  numer 
ous  others,  under  the  general  name  of  "Texans" 
united  in  throwing  off  the  yoke  of  Latin  domination, 
and  Texas,  when  she  decided  to  enter  the  Union,  en 
joyed  the  distinction  of  coming  in,  not  through  dis 
covery,  not  through  royal  grant,  not  through  pur 
chase,  not  through  conquest — but  through  the  heroic 
efforts  of  her  noble  sons. 

In  February,  1837,  Santa  Anna  had  once  again  set 
foot  on  his  own  soil.  No  sooner  had  he  been  released 
by  the  Texans  and  returned  to  his  own  country,  than 
he  began  scheming  to  regain  his  power.  He  organ 
ized  a  revolution  and  overthrew  Bustamente,  who 


18  The  Boy  Captive 


was  then  President  of  Mexico,  and  whom  Santa  Anna 
had,  himself  placed  in  power.  With  the  reins  of 
government  once  again  in  his  wily  hands,  Santa 
Anna  fixed  his  lynx  eyes  steadily  on  Texas,  for  he 
claimed  after  reaching  his  own  country  that  having 
been  a  prisoner  when  he  signed  the  treaty  with 
Texas,  he  should  not  therefore  be  held  responsible  for 
this  mistake.  In  his  heart  he  had  never  really  ceded 
the  fairest  and  most  fertile  province  of  the  Mexican 
Confederation,  and  now  he  began  to  harass  the  bord 
ers  of  Texas  with  petty  incursions.  In  doing  this,  his 
motives  were  two-fold;  he  meant  to  deal  a  blow  at 
the  ambition  of  Texas,  as  a  free  and  independent 
government;  she  should  know  that  under  no  cir 
cumstances  should  she  ever  be  regarded  as  other  than 
a  colonial  dependency  of  Mexico;  and,  secondly,  to 
the  United  States,  he  would  give  warning  that  any 
recognition  on  her  part,  of  the  claims  of  Texas,  would 
be  in  open  violation  of  the  laws  of  nations,  and  would 
be  inevitably  followed  by  war.  Emboldened  by  the 
knowledge  that  soon  after  the  battle  of  San  Jacinto, 
Texas  had  been  denied  entrance  into  the  Federal 
Union,  in  the  year  1842,  he  sent  three  of  these  invad 
ing  parties  into  the  Texas  Country. 

The  Mier  Expedition,  with  which  the  following 
story  deals,  was  made  into  Mexican  territory,  in  retal 
iation  for  these  vengeful  acts  of  Santa  Anna. 

Boys  and  girls  who  read  this  true  story,  will 
remember  that  when  we  speak  of  "Texan,"  it  is  an 


The  Boy  Captive  19 


American  of  the  highest  type,  who  espoused  the  cause 
of  freedom  and  volunteered  to  come  into  this  Indian- 
inhabited  wilderness  to  help  Texas. 

SIX  BRAVE  BOYS. 

These  six  beautiful,  brave,  young  boys,  of  fine 
appearance,  high  ideals,  and  noble  characters,  all 
belonged  to  the  finest  families  of  the  Republic. 

John  Christopher  Columbus  Hill,  the  youngest  of 
these  boys,  less  than  thirteen,  was  from  near  La 
Grange,  Fayette  County,  Texas;  Orlando  Phelps  and 
Billie  Reese  were  from  Brazoria  County;  Gilbert 
Brush,  Fort  Bend  County,  Harvey  Sellers,  Fayette 
County,  and  Chris  Yocum  from  Liberty,  Texas; 
none  exceeded  14  or  15  years  of  age.  The  nearness  to 
the  scene  of  the  tragedy  of  the  Alamo,  which  had  oc 
curred  only  six  brief  years  before,  had  been  an  inspira 
tion  to  every  man  and  boy,  and  each  performed  the 
grave  duties  of  men  under  the  heaviest  of  trials  with 
a  heroism  and  a  devotion  to  duty  almost  unknown  in 
the  annals  of  any  country,  which  added  lustre  to  the 
honor  and  glory  of  American  manhood.  Owing  to 
the  strange  and  romantic  subsequent  life  of  young 
Hill,  he  has  naturally  become  the  leading  character 
in  this  story,  but  there  was  no  mimic  acting  upon 
this  great  tragic  stage,  for  the  name  of  every  indi 
vidual  mentioned  in  these  chapters  had  a  living 
identity. 

Mr.  John  C.  C.  Hill,  whose  romantic  life  story  is 
herein  reproduced,  was  among  men  the  most  modest, 


20  The  Boy  Captive 

unassuming  and  un-herolike.  The  remarkable  scenes 
and  incidents  which  filled  his  young  life,  the 
great  men  into  whose  hands  as  a  little  prisoner  he 
fell,  their  extreme  kindness  to  him,  caused  him  to  feel 
in  his  later  years  that  he  wanted  this  story  of  his  life 
to  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  children  of  Texas. 
Mr.  Hill  having  read  "face  to  Pace  with  the  Mexi 
cans,"  and  knowing  of  the  long  and  intimate  associ 
ation  of  its  author  with  the  people  of  Mexico,  the  wri 
ter  of  this  story  appreciated  the  privilege  given  her  by 
Mr.  Hill  of  receiving  directly  from  himself  the  real 
story  of  a  small  boy  while  a  prisoner  in  a  foreign  coun 
try.  At  the  close  of  the  full  day  which  he  passed  with 
the  author  in  her  own  home,  going  into  the  closest 
detail  of  the  incidents  of  his  youth,  all  of  which  have 
been  carefully  placed  in  their  respective  chapters. 
Mr.  Hill  turned  his  kindly  face  to  the  writer  and  said : 

"When  your  book  about  Mier  is  finished,  if  I  am 
not  here,  please  tell  this  story  to  the  children  of  Texas 
with  my  love."  This  is  now  my  highest  mission, 
and  I  give  it  to  the  people  of  Texas  as  well  as 
the  bright  young  children  of  this  state  with  the 
hope  of  an  approving  audience,  upon  the  subject  of 
one  of  the  most  romantic  and  tragic  military  episodes 
known  in  the  annals  of  Texas  history,  and  the  only 
small  hero  known  among  our  many  great  ones. 

In  reading  this  story  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that 
the  events  which  make  it  complete  are  told  in  the 


The  Boy  Captive 


21 


easy  pioneer  fashion  in  which  the  English  language 
was  written  and  spoken  at  the  period  of  the  occur 
rences  named.  Small  boys  were  not  blessed  with  edu 
cational  opportunities  and  the  older  ones  spoke  in  the 
easy  manner  known  to  the  pioneers. 
Respectfully, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


A  YOUNG 
VOLUNTEER 


CHAPTER  I. 


A  YOUNG  VOLUNTEER. 

THREE  boys  were  playing  "mumblety  peg" 
on  the  ground  in  front  of  the  house.  One 
of  them  was  tossing  the  knife,  ' '  Front  palm, 
back  palm,  off  the  knee,  break  the  chick — "  but  be 
fore  they  got  the  chicken's  neck  broken  as  known 
in  the  game — he  and  his  companions  were  startled 
by  the  sound  of  galloping  hoofs.  They  sprang  to 
their  feet  in  time  to  see,  over  the  tall  fence,  the  heads 
of  a  horse  and  a  man,  then  the  rattle  of  stones  down 
the  roadway,  told  of  the  swift  descent  to  the  ford. 

The  charms  of  ' '  mumblety  peg ' '  fled  with  the  horse 
man  and  with  one  accord,  the  boys  raced  through 
the  open  passage  that  divided  the  two  rooms  of  the 
farm-house,  and  breathlessly  joined  the  men  at  the 
corral.  "Who  was  that?  What  did  he  want?  Is 
it  Injuns?"  asked  John,  Mr.  Hill's  youngest  son. 

"No,  it's  Mexicans  this  time.  Several  hundred 
prisoners  have  been  taken  in  San  Antonio.  Part  of 
the  Rangers  were  in  town  and  are  prisoners,  but 
most  of  them  were  out  scouting  in  another  direction, 
when  the  Mexicans  slipped  into  the  city,  and  took 
possession  without  a  fight.  They  didn't  catch  Jack 
Hays  though,  for  one  of  the  Rangers  got  away,  and 


24  The  Boy  Captive 

headed  the  rest  off  before  they  ran  into  the  trap. 
Captain  Jack  was  down  at  Seguin,  waiting  for  help. 
He  has  sent  runners  out  in  every  direction;  that  was 
one  of  the  Rangers ! ' '  said  Mr.  Hill. 

' '  Are  we  going,  father  ? ' '  asked  John. 

"We!"  said  his  brother  Jeffrey,  a  manly  young 
fellow.  "Father  and  I  are  going,  but  we  are  not 
going  to  take  any  babies  along  with  us  to  the  war. ' ' 

"I'm  goin'  too!  Aint  I,  father?"  The  earnest 
young  face  looked  up  anxiously  at  the  serious  face 
of  his  father.  "I'm  not  any  baby;  why  its  only 
a  year  since  I  rode  to  Austin  by  myself  and  recorded 
the  deeds  to  father's  property,  didn't  I,  father?" 

"Yes,  my  son,  you  did." 

"Then  I'm  goin',  too." 

Jeffrey  gave  a  derisive  laugh:  but  James  Mon 
roe,  the  other  brother,  looked  at  his  father,  and 
waited  for  his  answer.  The  two  visiting  boys,  sons  of 
one  of  the  neighboring  settlers,also  listened  with  keen 
attention. 

"I  don't  know "  said  the  father,  taken  by  sur 
prise.  "  It 's  just  as  your  mother  says. ' ' 

"All  right  then,  I'm  goin'." 

It  was  nearly  sunset.  The  heavy  line  of  timber 
that  marked  the  river  bank  caught  the  light  on  its 
topmost  twigs.  The  lower  part  was  dusky.  Shrill 
calls  of  jays  hunting  their  leafy  bed-chambers  made 
the  air  noisy.  Young  mocking  birds  were  practicing 
their  vespers  while  the  older  ones  were  scolding  and 


The  Boy  Captive  25 


chasing  feathered  trespassers  from  off  their  favorite 
roost.  Big  mule  ear  rabbits  went  loping  through  the 
long  grass  like  (mimic)  kangaroos,  and  their  smaller 
brethren,  the  little  "cotton-tails"  were  hunting  their 
evening  meal  among  the  tender  herbs.  High  against 
the  fence  the  dusty  weeds  grew  tall  and  rank,  and 
battalions  of  sunflowers  lined  their  golden  shields  all 
along  the  wagon  trail  that  led  up  from  the  ford  to 
the  low  log  house  that  faced  the  river  bottom. 

Prom  the  rear  of  the  corral  came  the  low  of  the 
cow,  for  although  relieved  of  their  milk,  they  still 
lingered  around  the  calf-pen  trying  to  coax  their  off 
spring  through  the  close  cedar  pickets  to  follow  them 
to  pleasant  pastures. 

But  the  little  calves  were  safer  in  the  pen;  for  the 
woods  and  the  open  prairie  alike  were  filled  with 
wolves.  "With  the  coming  of  dusk,  fierce  panthers 
would  rouse  themselves  in  their  thirst  and  lie  in  wait 
for  some  smaller  and  weaker  animal  to  satisfy  their 
hunger.  Clumsy  bears  wtih  their  shaggy  cubs  sham 
bled  through  the  bushes  hunting  for  nuts  and  other 
delicacies.  Fox  and  'coon,  'possum  and  skunk  waged 
war  on  the  poultry,  and  the  pack  hounds  that  did 
guard  duty  often  engaged  in  fierce  battle  with  the 
marauders  until  the  uproar  of  snarls  and  yelps  and 
growls  brought  their  human  allies  to  the  rescue  with 
rifles.  These  were  the  conditions  at  the  time  of  our 
story. 


26  The  Boy  Captive 

If  the  calves  and  poultry  had  many  foes,  so  had  the 
dwellers  in  the  farmhouse,  for  this  was  the  middle  of 
September  of  1842. 

The  farmhouse  was  the  home  of  a  Texas  settler, 
Mr.  Asa  Hill,  who  brought  his  family  from  Georgia 
to  the  beautiful  rolling  prairie  land  near  La  Grange, 
Texas. 

The  little  group  of  settlers  of  whom  he  was  one 
had  not  only  the  wild  beasts  and  reptiles  of  the  wild 
erness  to  encounter.  They  lived  ever  in  dread  of  wan 
dering  bands  of  Indians  swooping  down  on  their 
scanty  herds  of  cattle  or  driving  off  their  horses. 
The  same  tragedies  of  burning  farmhouses  and  scalp 
ing  the  inmates,  of  carrying  children  and  women  into 
captivity,  worse  than  death,  were  repeated  here  on 
these  smiling  praires  with  their  grassy  billows  break 
ing  against  the  scattered  motts  of  timber,  as  two  cen 
turies  before  were  enacted  among  the  hills  and  val 
leys  of  rocky  New  England  and  the  forest  depths  of 
Old  Virginia. 

The  supper  table  was  waiting  under  the  sheltering 
roof  of  the  open  passage  or  hall.  Simple  and  homely 
as  it  would  seem  at  this  day,  its  furnishings  were 
far  superior  to  the  average  settlers;  for  the  Hills 
were  of  old  colonial  stock  and  although  they  had  left 
many  luxuries  and  comforts  behind,  they  had  brought 
their  refinement  with  them.  The  supper  cloth  was 
scrupulously  white  and  clean,  and  some  few  pieces 
of  silver  were  interspersed  among  the  plainer  crock- 


HOME  OF  GEN.  EDWARD  BURLESON 
A  Typical  Pioneer  Home 


The  Boy  Captive  27 


ery.  Everything  that  their  farm  did  not  supply  had 
to  be  hauled  in  big  freight  wagons  perhaps  one  hun 
dred  and  twenty-five  miles  from  Houston  through  the 
unsettled  country;  and  these  "freighter-wagons" 
were  the  especial  mark  for  the  Indians,  whose  depre 
dations  made  the  business  of  freighting  a  costly  and 
dangerous  venture. 

Therefore  when  glasses  got  broken  or  cups  and 
bowls  grew  scarce,  gourds  took  their  places.  Easy  of 
culture,  various  in  shapes  and  of  all  sizes  they  were 
used  as  dippers,  pans,  pails,  and  baskets ;  two  of  them 
strapped  on  a  horse  made  a  very  good  substitute  for 
trunk  or  satchel. 

If  the  table  furnishings  were  simple,  the  food  was 
both  plentiful  and  good.  Deer  were  so  numerous  that 
the  settlers  had  much  trouble  to  keep  them  from  de 
stroying  the  crops;  so  venison  was  more  common  on 
the  table  than  bacon.  Prairie  hen  and  quail  whirred 
through  long  grass  in  every  direction,  and  the  pecan 
groves  by  the  side  of  the  river  were  noisy  with  the  gob 
bling  of  wild  turkeys.  The  negroes  had  brought  the 
news  of  the  Ranger's  call  when  they  brought  in  the 
milk,  and  Mrs.  Hill  and  her  daughters  knew  all  the 
sad  news.  They  watched  the  hungry  men  devour  the 
hot  venison  steak  in  silence,  half  dreading  to  ask  what 
they  were  almost  sure  of;  that  their  men  would  an 
swer  the  call  for  help. 

Bacon  and  hominy  vanished  as  by  magic  and  the 
little  darkeys  were  kept  busy  trotting  back  and  forth 


28  The  Boy  Captive 

with  relays  of  hot  cornbread.  A  gourd  loaded  with 
transparent  combs  of  amber  honey  was  largely  pa 
tronized  by  the  small  boys,  and  many  gourds  of  but 
termilk  were  necessary  to  quench  their  thirst. 

The  tallow  candles  threw  their  flickering  light  over 
the  table  and  the  shadows  of  the  eaters  danced  gro 
tesquely  on  the  log  walls  hung  with  saddles  and  bri 
dles,  guns  and  powder-horns.  Several  large  deer 
horns  made  excellent  racks  for  the  rifles.  The  dogs 
prowled  restlessly  around  watching  with  eager  eyes 
the  hungry  humanity  at  the  board. 

"Will  you  get  off  in  the  morning,  father?"  asked 
one  of  the  girls. 

"We'll  be  across  the  Colorado  and  nearly  to  Plum 
Grove  before  sunrise,  won't  we  father?"  declared 
John,  with  his  mouth  full  of  corn  bread  and  honey. 

"We!"  said  his  mother.  "You  are  not  going  to 
take  that  child,  Asa?  Ton  are  not  going,  John!" 
She  laid  her  knife  down  and  gazed  with  alarmed  eyes 
at  her  husband. 

"Well,  he  wants  to  go  pretty  bad,"  said  Mr.  Hill, 
looking  at  his  plate,  and  avoiding  his  wife's  eyes. 

"It's  my  turn  now,  mother,"  said  John  cheerfully 
turning  a  beaming  countenance  upon  her.  ' '  You  know 
James  Monroe  had  his  chance  at  the  Mexicans  at  San 
Jacinto  and  father  has  promised  me  over  and  over 
again  that  the  next  war  we  had  I  could  go." 

"Well,  he  never  dreamed  that  there  would  be  an 
other,"  said  his  mother. 


The  Boy  Captive  29 


"That  don't  make  any  difference,  he  promised  just 
the  same. ' ' 

"You  are  too  little ,"  began  his  little  sister 

excitedly. 

"Well,"  said  John,  sitting  up  erect  and  eyeing  his 
sister  beligerently,  "I'd  like  to  know  who  took  the 
deeds  to  Austin  ?  I  'm  some  bigger  than  I  was  then. ' ' 

An  appreciative  grin  went  around  the  table,  save 
for  poor  Mrs.  Hill  who  gazed  at  her  youngest  son 
with  troubled  eyes. 

After  supper  the  boj's  went  out  to  see  about  the 
horses  and  the  father  and  mother  discussed  the  situa 
tion  while  Mammy  Lou  cleared  the  supper  table.  The 
mother  urged  the  youth  of  the  boy  and  his  slender 
physique  against  the  hardships  and  dangers  of  the 
expedition.  Patiently  and  sympathetically  the  father 
listened  and  then  he  answered  that  the  boy,  though 
small,  was  no  younger  than  others  who  had  served  in 
the  war  with  Mexico.  That  it  was  time  he  was  train 
ing  for  the  life  that  every  man  had  to  face  who  made 
his  home  in  a  new  country  so  beset  with  foes  as  was 
Texas.  That  it  was  better  that  he  should  make  his 
first  venture  under  the  protection  of  his  father  and 
brother. 

"0,  Asa,  he  is  so  delicate  looking!  It  is  as  bad  as 
taking  one  of  the  girls ! ' '  said  the  anxious  mother. 

"Now,  mother,  that  is  just  the  reason  that  I  would 
like  him  to  go.  He  isn't  any  girl  if  he  is  as  pretty  as 
one.  No  boy  of  his  spirit  is  going  to  stand  being  left 


30  The  Boy  Captive 

at  home  with  the  women.  In  a  few  years  he  will  be 
for  having  a  home  of  his  own  and  then  what  will  you 
do?  You  can't  keep  him  tied  to  your  apron  strings 
many  years  longer!  Best  cut  loose  now.  But  do  as 
you  think  best,"  he  added  kindly,  "I  won't  inter 
fere."  Here  the  conversation  ended. 

Preparations  for  departure  went  briskly  on.  Guns 
were  cleaned,  bullets  moulded,  bowie  knives  sharp 
ened,  powder-horns  replenished,  water-gourds  and 
blankets  made  ready,  and  all  the  saddles  looked  care 
fully  over.  John  found  a  chance  to  whisper  to  his 
mother. 

"You  goin'  to  let  me  go,  mother?  I  must  go  to 
take  care  of  father  and  Jeff ! ' ' 

His  mother  gave  a  faint  smile  as  she  looked  at  the 
eager  face  of  the  boy.  How  often  she  had  said  that 
to  him  when  he  was  allowed  to  accompany  them  on 
some  hunting  trip. 

"My  son,  I  must  take  it  to  the  Lord  in  prayer," 
was  her  answer  and  John  said  no  more.  Perhaps 
intuition  told  him  that  the  prayer  was  to  be  more  of 
resignation  than  entreaty,  for  he  quietly  made  his 
preparation  with  the  others.  If  his  father  noticed, 
he  gave  no  sign,  nor  did  either  of  his  brothers  make 
any  remark.  James  Monroe  took  down  a  small  rifle 
which  he  seldom  used  and  cleaned  it  carefully.  He  had 
used  it  at  San  Jacinto  and  sometimes  he  allowed  John 
to  take  it  on  a  hunt.  Perhaps  he  thought  it  would  be 
well  to  have  all  the  fire  arms  in  readiness  in  case  of  an 


The  Boy  Captive  31 


attack  by  Indians,  as  he  had  to  defend  the  family  in 
the  absence  of  his  father  and  brother. 

Long  before  the  sun  arose,  while  the  sleepless 
mother  lay  upon  her  pillow,  damp  with  tears,  cau 
tiously  a  little  figure  slipped  into  her  room.  The 
mother  noticed  the  beseeching  eyes  and  saw  they  had 
tears  in  them. 

' '  Oh,  mother.  Do  let  me  go ! "  he  whispered.  I  Ve 
got  to  go  along  to  take  care  of  father  and  Jeff ! ' ' 

"I  have  prayed  and  prayed,  my  son,  that  God 
would  give  me  wisdom  to  decide;  and  at  last  it 
seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  best  to  let  you  go!  I 
have  the  feeling  that  you  may  help  your  father  and 
brother ! ' '  Mrs.  Hill  was  a  very  religious  woman  and 
believed  implicitly  in  the  power  of  prayer.  God  alone 
knew  the  struggle  she  had  undergone  with  her  desire 
to  shelter  him  from  danger.  But  she  believed  she 
was  following  the  commands  of  God  in  allowing  this, 
her  youngest  son,  to  go  to  war. 
John  was  overjoyed  at  the  thought  of  going — and 
rushed  out  hurriedly  to  saddle  his  own  fine  little 
pony,  "Jim  Dandy."  All  his  other  preparations  were 
made  and  even  his  mother  caught  a  little  of  his  enthu 
siasm;  for  John  was  of  that  magnetic  temperament 
that  affected  everyone  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 
His  little  sisters  hung  around  him  enviously  and  ad 
miringly  with  their  tear-filled  eyes,  and  felt  indeed, 
that  it  was  a  great  thing  thing  to  be  a  boy  and  go  to 
war  with  men. 


32  The  Boy  Captive 

James  Monroe  came  into  the  hall  where  his  mother 
was  sitting  looking  sadly  at  the  busy  scene. 

' '  Well,  mother !  I  came  back  from  San  Jacinto  all 
right  and  I  am  going  to  give  John  my  little  rifle  for 
luck.  It  is  small,  and  he  knows  all  about  it. ' '  Calling 
John  up  he  gave  him  the  rifle  saying: 

"I  carried  this  rifle  at  San  Jacinto  and  it  did  good 
service;  I'll  give  it  to  you  now,  since  I  can't  go,  and 
remember,  its  never  to  be  surrendered  to  a  Mexican. ' ' 

The  crowning  touch  of  happiness  was  given.  John 
felt  himself  indeed  a  man  and  straightening  his  little 
figure  looked  his  brother  in  the  eye  and  said: 

"I'll  remember.  No  Mexican  shall  ev&r  shoot  this 
rifle." 

As  the  small  cavalcade  rode  down  the  trail  that  led 
toward  Seguin,  Jim  Dandy  was  far  in  advance  and 
the  graceful  little  figure  of  the  small  rider  turned 
once  more  to  wave  farewell  to  the  dear  mother  and 
sisters  who  stood  watching  the  party  till  they  disap 
peared  in  the  hazy  distance  of  the  Indian  Summer 
morning. 

"I  shall  never  see  him  again,"  said  Mrs.  Hill  sink 
ing  into  a  chair,  as  she  gazed  at  the  little  group 
passing  out  of  her  sight.  "That  is  just  what  you 
said  when  he  took  those  papers  to  Austin  all  by  him 
self.  He  is  a  man,  mother,  if  sense  and  courage 
count.  You  said  the  Injuns  would  kill  him,  and  the 
bears  or  panthers  catch  him ;  or  else  the  wolves  would 
eat  him,  or  the  Mexicans  steal  him;  but  instead  he 


The  Boy  Captive  33 

rode  the  ninety  miles  all  alone  into  Austin,  recorded 
his  papers  as  good  as  if  he  were  fifty,  had  the  best 
time  he  ever  had,  and  came  home  as  healthy  as  a 
young  wild-cat. ' ' 

' '  Well,  he  ought  never  to  have  gone.  It  was  tempt 
ing  Providence  to  send  a  twelve  year  old  boy  on  a 
journey  of  ninety  miles  all  alone  in  a  country  full 
of  Indians,"  said  his  mother. 

' '  Well,  what  made  you  let  him  go,  mother  ?  Father 
left  it  to  you  to  say, ' '  said  James  Monroe,  smiling  sig 
nificantly. 

"I  couldnt'  help  myself.  Something  seemed  to  say 
'Let  John  go!'  besides  when  John  wants  anything, 
he's  just  got  a  way  with  him  that  would  coax  the 
birds  off  the  bushes.  He  is  so  good  and  sweet  that 
there  isn't  one  of  us  who  can  bear  to  cross  him." 

"Well,"  said  James  Monroe  reflectively,  "I  reckon 
he'll  carry  his  gift  right  along  with  him,  and  if  the 
Mexicans  catch  him,  why  I  '11  bet  in  twenty -four  hours 
they'll  be  dancing  to  his  tune.  That  little  brother 
of  mine  was  born  to  good  luck,  mother,  and  he's  got 
a  rifle,  and  that's  better  than  luck.  Say,  there's  a  big 
flock  of  turkeys  down  in  the  bottom;  they  are  after 
the  pecans.  I  am  going  to  get  one  for  dinner. ' ' 


OLD  FOES  AND  NEW 
TROUBLES 


CHAPTER  II. 

OLD  FOES  AND  NEW  TROUBLES. 

IT  was  bad  news  the  ranger  brought.  He  said  that 
General  Woll  had  entered  San  Antonio  in  com 
mand  of  about  two  thousand  Mexicans,  and  finding 
the  courts  in  session  there,  had  taken  as  pris 
oners  many  of  the  more  prominent  citizens, 
together  with  the  officers  of  the  court.  San 
Antonio  de  Bexar  was  the  largest  as  well  as  the 
oldest  town  in  Texas,  and  it  was  also  the  nearest  to 
the  Mexican  border;  therefore  it  was  the  first  to  suf 
fer.  In  the  previous  march,  General  Vasquez  had 
swooped  down  on  the  unsuspecting  town,  securing 
much  plunder  and  taking  many  prisoners,  and  was 
back  over  the  border  before  the  startled  settlers  fairly 
realized  what  had  happened.  Again  in  July  another 
raid  was  made  into  the  country  at  El  Salado  six 
miles  southeast  of  San  Antonio,  but  they  were  inter 
cepted  before  much  damage  was  done.  The  sur 
rounding  settlements  became  terrorized.  Indians 
were  enough  without  this  menace  hanging  over  their 
peace.  The  settlers  on  the  Guadalupe  fled  eastward 
to  the  Colorado  with  their  wives  and  children  and 
their  scanty  household  furniture.  The  men  returned 
to  cultivate  their  crops  and  to  protect  their  posses- 


36  The  Boy  Captive 

sions  from  the  depredations  of  marauding  savages  or 
wild  beasts.  The  incursion  of  General  Woll  naturally 
caused  much  excitement  and  indignation  among  the 
Texans,  and  they  resolved  to  follow  the  enemy  to 
recapture  their  unfortunate  friends,  and  retaliate 
upon  the  Mexicans  wherever  they  found  them.  It  was 
a  noble  ambition  to  attempt  to  rescue  their  friends 
who  were  held  as  prisoners  and  were  now  being 
marched  away  to  unknown  prisons.  The  Texans  de 
termined  to  make  an  effort  to  retaliate  upon  the 
Mexicans,  and  the  regular  army  was  reinforced 
by  many  volunteers,  and  General  Houston  gave  the 
command  to  Adjutant  General  Sommervelle. 

After  the  affair  at  El  Salado  in  July  when  the 
people  contemplated  revenge  against  the  Mexicans, 
President  Houston,  through  the  newspapers  of  the 
day  said:  "The  government  will  promise  nothing 
but  authority  to  march  and  furnish  such  supplies  of 
ammunition  as  may  be  needed  for  the  campaign. 
They  must  look  to  the  Valley  of  the  Rio  Grande  for 
remuneration."  The  government  will  claim  no  por 
tion  of  the  spoils ;  they  will  be  divided  among  the  vic 
tors.  The  flag  of  Texas  will  accompany  the  expe 
dition." 

Later  in  October,  President  Houston's  order  to 
Brigadier  General  Sommervelle,  under  date  of  Wash 
ington,  Texas,  Oct.  3,  1842,  read: 

"Sir — You  will  proceed  to  the  most  eligible  point 
in  the  Southwestern  frontier  of  Texas,  concentrate 


The  Boy  Captive  39 


with  the  force  now  under  the  command,  all  troops 
who  may  submit  to  your  order,  and  if  you  can  ad 
vance  with  the  prospect  of  success,  into  the  enemy's 
territory,  you  will  do  so  at  once.  You  will  receive 
no  troops  into  your  command  but  such  as  will  march 
across  the  Rio  Grande  under  your  orders,  if  required 
by  you  to  do  so.  If  you  cross  the  Rio  Grande  you 
must  suffer  no  surprise,  but  be  always  on  the  alert. 
You  will  be  controlled  by  the  most  civilized  warfare, 
and  you  will  find  great  advantage  of  exercising  great 
humanity  towards  the  common  people.  In  battle  let 
the  enemy  feel  the  fie\rceness  of  a  just  resentment  and 
retribution.  You  alone  will  be  held  responsible  to  the 
government,  and  sustained  by  its  resources. 

"I  have  the  honor  to  be, 

Your  Obt.  Servant, 

SAM  HOUSTON." 

It  is  but  a  just  tribute  to  the  men  who  composed 
this  expedition  to  say  that  they  were  of  the  highest 
character  and  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  all  who  knew 
them  in  their  own  country.  They  were  patriots,  tried 
and  true,  but  ignorant  of  the  language,  habits,  cus 
toms  and  powers  of  the  enemy  whom  they  were  to 
meet  and  punish  in  his  own  country,  with  no  artil 
lery,  and  naught  but  their  braA'e  and  determined 
efforts  with  their  rifles,  was  a  great  and  a  serious 
undertaking. 

Numerous  expeditions  have  been  recorded  in  the 
history  of  our  great  country,  but  most  of  them  were 

3 


40  The  Boy  Captive 


for  the  purpose  of  exploration  or  development.  They 
have  been  rich  in  great  results,  the  one  thought  of 
the  explorers  having  been  for  the  good  that  would 
come  to  the  United  States.  But  what  is  known  in 
history  as  the  "Mier  Expedition"  was  purely  for 
punishment  and  revenge.  It  seemed  more  than  the 
new  republic  could  bear,  to  begin  anew  the  struggle 
to  maintain  her  hard  won  independence. 

Recognizing  the  necessity  of  such  an  organization, 
General  Houston  promptly  authorized  the  dashing 
and  gallant  Captain  Jack  Hayes,  a  young  surveyor 
living  in  San  Antonio,  to  form  a  company  of  scouts 
whose  business  it  should  be  to  keep  watch  on  the 
Mexicans  as  well  as  on  the  Indians.  The  headquar 
ters  of  the  brave  band  was  in  San  Antonio,  but  they 
ranged  the  entire  western  border.  Hayes,  although 
very  young,  had  won  a  name  for  his  courage  and 
good  sense  in  fighting  Indians,  and  the  young  men  of 
the  border  were  anxious  to  serve  with  him.  In  enlist 
ing  his  men,  he  demanded  that  every  man  bear  a  good 
character  for  courage  and  honesty,  be  sober  and  own 
a  horse  that  was  worth  not  less  than  one  hundred  dol 
lars;  the  last  essentials  showed  his  good  sense,  for 
there  was  much  hard  riding  connected  with  the  work 
and  the  lives  of  the  men  would  frequently  depend 
upon  their  being  mounted  on  better  steeds  than  the 
Indians.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  famous 
"Texas  Rangers"  under  the  republic,  whose  deeds 
are  worthy  to  be  sung  by  a  Macauley  or  a  Prescott. 


The  dashing  and  gallant  Capt.  Jack  Hayes 


The  Boy  Captive  43 


When  the  Hills  joined  the  other  recruits  at  La 
Grange,  from  their  little  settlements,  they  were  much 
annoyed  to  hear  that  another  company  of  fifty  men 
who  were  under  Captain  Nicholas  Dawson,  were 
twelve  or  fourteen  hours  ahead  of  them.  It  seemed 
that  the  news  had  reached  them  a  little  sooner  for  the 
reason  that  one  of  the  young  men  of  Plum  Grove 
settlement  was  at  Gonzales,  where  he  and  his  father 
were  gathering  their  corn.  They  were  of  one  of  the 
unfortunate  families,  who,  abandoning  their  homes 
on  the  Guadalupe,  fled  to  Plum  Grove  in  the  Colorado 
Valley,  fifty  miles  away.  Mr.  Morrell  was  a  Baptist 
minister,  known  throughout  the  country  not  only  as  a 
good  man,  but  as  a  very  brave  one.  He  fought  side  by 
side  with  his  neighbors  when  they  had  their  terrible 
battle  with  the  Comanches  at  Plum  Creek.  So  he 
turned  back  promptly  with  Colonel  Caldwell  on  hear 
ing  this  bad  news,  and  left  his  son  to  carry  the  news 
and  the  corn  back  home. 

When  John  heard  that  Colonel  Caldwell  was  also 
ahead  of  them,  he  fairly  groaned,  so  sure  was  he  that 
the  Mexicans  would  be  killed  before  he  could  get 
there  to  assist  in  their  destruction.  All  along  the 
trail  the  number  of  Texans  was  being  increased  by 
recruits  who  had  received  the  warning  given  in 
pioneer  fashion  by  repeating  the  blowing  of  a  horn 
from  settlement  to  settlement,  and  they  pushed  rapid 
ly  on. 

In  the  meantime  Captain  Jack  Hayes  had  a  stroke 


44  The  Boy  Captive 

of  luck.  When  he  received  warning  that  the  Mexi 
cans  had  again  crossed  the  border,  he  sent  two  of  the 
bravest  of  his  men  to  Austin  to  get  more  ammunition. 
The  road  between  Austin  and  San  Antonio  had  no 
settlements,  and  it  led  through  the  Indian  country. 
When  he  had  to  retreat  to  Seguin,  he  supposed  that 
Wallace  and  Mallon  would  return  to  San  Antonio 
the  same  way  and  the  Mexicans  would  capture  all 
the  ammunition,  as  well  as  two  of  his  most  efficient 
scouts.  Great  was  his  joy  to  see  them  ride  into 
Seguin  a  short  time  after  he  and  his  company  reach 
ed  there.  They  had  come  that  way  because  they 
did  not  wish  to  risk  fighting  Indians,  while  loaded 
with  a  keg  of  powder. 

The  ammunition  secured,  Colonel  Caldwell  and 
Captain  Hayes  with  their  men  moved  promptly  back 
toward  San  Antonio.  They  numbered  about  two 
hundred,  but  the  Mexicans  within  the  City  were 
thirteen  hundred  strong,  and  also  had  several  field 
pieces  with  them. 

Unheeding  the  difference  in  numbers,  Captain 
Jack  resolved  to  draw  them  out  for  a  skirmish ;  so  he 
and  six  of  his  men  rode  up  near  the  Mexican  quar 
ters  as  a  challenge.  They  thought  the  cavalry  would 
send  out  a  small  detachment  to  chase  them,  and  it 
was  their  intention  to  decoy  them  toward  the  foot 
hills  some  miles  away,  where,  concealed  by  the  mes- 
quite,  thirty  or  more  of  the  Rangers  lay  in  waiting. 
The  plan  succeeded,  only  instead  of  a  few  men,  sever- 


The  Boy  Captive  45 


al  hundred  turned  out,  and  a  brisk  chase  followed. 
The  little  band  in  the  mesquite  managed  to  fall  back 
and  rejoin  Caldwell.  The  Mexican  cavalry  circled 
around  their  hiding  places,  and  then  joined  their 
own  command,  but  not  without  losing  several  men 
by  the  deadly  rifles  of  the  concealed  Texans. 

Later  in  the  day  General  Woll  appeared  on  the 
prairie  in  the  rear  of  the  Texans.  He  was  between 
them  and  their  homes,  and  they  knew  that  they 
must  fight  without  waiting  for  further  reinforce 
ments.  Colonel  Caldwell  was  a  member  of  the  Texas 
and  Santa  Fe  Expedition  which  left  Austin  May  1st, 
1841,  who  had  once  been  held  prisoner  by  the  Mexi 
cans  and  had  only  been  freed  a  short  time  previous, 
urged  upon  the  men  to  fight,  saying  that  he,  if  cap 
tured  again,  would  be  shot.  Rev.  Mr.  Morrell,  the 
minister,  made  a  glowing  speech  that  put  heart  and 
courage  into  them  all,  for  they  knew  him  to  be  a  man 
of  deeds  and  as  brave  as  his  words. 

The  Texans  were  sheltered  behind  the  little  foot 
hills  and  the  mesquite  completely  concealed  them  from 
view.  The  first  shot  of  the  enemy's  cannon  cut  the 
twigs  off  the  mesquite  and  sent  a  shower  of 
leaves  down  on  them,  but  did  no  further  damage. 
It  was  followed  by  a  burst  of  music  from  their  band, 
then  the  glittering  array  of  uniformed  men  advanced. 
Behind  the  hill  the  shabby  unkempt  men  waited  with 
rifles  ready.  Not  until  the  enemy  was  within  thirty 
feet  did  the  Texans  fire.  The  effect  was  terrible. 


46  The  Boy  Captive 


So  many  were  killed  that  those  in  the  rear  would  not 
advance  any  farther.  For  a  short  time  the  fighting 
lasted,  the  Mexicans  suffering  heavily,  for  they  were 
fully  exposed  to  the  foe  in  ambush,  their  artillery 
was  useless  to  them  as  it  was  directly  in  their  rear 
and  could  not  be  trained  on  the  Texans  without  rak 
ing  their  own  ranks.  Suddenly  a  horn  sounded  for  re 
treat  and  the  astonished  Texans  beheld  their  foes 
turn  their  backs  in  flight.  Believeing  it  a  ruse  to 
draw  them  out  of  their  shelter,  they  did  not  pursue 
them.  A  short  interval  of  suspense  and  the  artillery 
of  the  Mexicans  roared  again,  but  this  time  the  fire 
was  turned  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  the  sharp 
cracking  of  rifles  told  them  that  another  body  of 
Texans  had  approached  the  rear  of  the  enemy.  Be 
fore  they  could  gather  to  the  support  of  their  friends, 
the  firing  ceased  and  they  saw  that  the  Mexicans 
were  successful. 

It  lacked  an  hour  of  sunset.  The  concealed  Tex 
ans  saw  General  Woll  in  all  the  glittering  bravery  of 
his  uniform,  stand  on  one  of  the  cannon,  and  make  a 
ringing  address  to  his  men:  the  huzzas  that  followed 
told  the  meaning  of  his  eloquence,  and  they  knew 
that  beyond  the  foe  lay  the  lifeless  or  mangled  bodies 
of  their  brave  neighbors  from  the  Colorado. 

With  music  playing  and  drums  beating,  the  Mexi 
cans  moved  to  their  quarters ;  but  all  night  they  were 
carrying  their  dead  and  wounded  into  the  city. 

All  night  the  little  company  lay  in  the  shadows  of 


The  Boy  Captive  47 


the  mesquite  waiting  their  opportunity  to  go  to  the 
bodies  of  their  friends.  They  saw  the  stars  of  heaven 
shine  out  one  by  one,  shaming  the  puny  lights  of  the 
soldiers  hunting  for  the  slain,  but  the  fever  of  their 
anxiety  was  not  cooled.  The  scouts  had  confirmed 
their  suspicions  and  they  knew  that  is  was  the  men 
from  LaGrange.  The  minister  sat  in  silent  anguish, 
for  he  knew  that  his  son  was  among  them.  Off  in  the 
distance  the  hoarse  bark  of  the  cayote  could  be  heard. 
Dread  scavangers! 

With  the  first  glimmer  of  dawn  they  were  on  the 
fatal  field;  but  the  dreadful  cannon  had  so  mangled 
its  victims  that  they  were  hardly  able  to  identify  the 
thirty-five  mutilated  bodies.  And  here  the  good 
minister  showed  his  great  nature,  for  although  torn 
with  anxiety  in  regard  to  the  fate  of  his  son,  yet  he 
remembered  the  other  sorrowing  hearts  that  would 
be,  when  this  sad  news  was  carried  back  to  the  homes 
of  the  slain,  and  he  took  his  note  book  and  made  an 
entry  of  each  body  he  identified;  and  nearly  every 
one  of  the  thirty-five  men  was  known  to  him,  for  he 
was  a  faithful  servant  of  the  Lord,  and  labored  over 
a  wide  field. 

They  had  neither  ax  nor  spade  with  which  to  dig 
graves,  and  they  found  it  slow  and  tedious  work,  for 
they  were  tired  and  worn  with  the  strain  of  the  last 
few  days.  It  was  on  Sunday  the  little  battle  took 
place,  and  on  Tuesday  morning  the  little  band  of 
two  hundred  had  grown  to  five  hundred,  for  the  vol- 


48  The  Boy  Captive 

unteers  were  responding  promptly  to  the  call  to  arms ; 
and  among  them  were  more  of  the  men  from  La- 
Grange.  Aulcy  Miller,  one  of  the  men  with  Dawson, 
had  escaped  and  had  ridden  bareheaded  back  to 
Seguin  with  the  news.  He  said  that  they  heard  the 
firing  of  the  Texans,  but  were  mistaken  in  locating 
them,and  marched  right  out  in  sight  of  the  Mexicans. 
They  retreated  into  a  clump  of  mesquite,  but  the 
Mexicans  turned  the  cannon  on  them.  When  Cap 
tain  Dawson  saw  that  it  was  hopeless  to  try  to  escape, 
he  raised  the  white  flag,  but  the  enemy  did  not 
see  it  until  they  had  nearly  wiped  out  the  company. 
They  had  twelve  or  more  prisoners;  among  them  was 
the  minister's  son. 

Revenge  is  a  sharp  spur,  and  among  the  later  com 
ers  were  near  kinsmen  and  neighbors  of  the  dead. 
When  word  was  brought  that  the  Mexicans  had 
evacuated  San  Antonio,  and  were  in  retreat  to  the 
border  with  their  prisoners,  the  burial  of  the  dead 
was  abandoned  and  the  men  mounted  for  pursuit. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  on  the  next  day  the  Tex 
ans  overtook  the  enemy  at  the  Hondo.  They  had  a 
sharp  skirmish  and  pressed  them  so  hard  that  they 
abondoned  the  cannon.  But  night  came  on,  the  fight 
ing  stopped,  and  under  cover  of  darkness,  General 
Woll  evaded  his  pursuers. 

Daylight  made  the  situation  plain  to  the  Texans, 
there  were  many  sore  and  angry  hearts  among  them. 
Captain  Hayes  was  anxious  to  follow  on  immediately, 


The  Boy  Captive  49 

as  Woll  was  only  six  miles  ahead,  and  could  not  move 
rapidly  with  foot  soldiers  and  prisoners.  Mr.  Mor- 
rell  begged  them  to  go,  for  his  son  was  captured,  and 
it  filled  him  with  horror  to  think  that  he  was  being 
carried  off  to  a  Mexican  prison. 

Had  Captain  Jack's  advice  been  followed,  this 
story  would  not  have  been  written,  for  General  Woll 
admitted  in  his  report  to  his  government,  that  he 
had  six  hundred  men  killed;  so,  at  the  time  of  the 
retreat  he  could  not  have  numbered  more  than  seven 
hundred.  But  other  leaders  had  come,  and  with 
them,  strife. 

The  Texans  rode  slowly  back  to  San  Antonio,  but 
there  were  many  sore  and  angry  hearts  among  them. 
The  minister  was  indignant  that  no  attempt  was 
made  to  rescue  the  unfortunate  prisoners,  abandoned 
the  effort,  and  returned  to  his  home. 

And  John  felt  that  this  was  indeed  a  hard  fate,  to 
be  cheated  out  of  a  chance  to  avenge  the  massacre  of 
Dawson's  men. 


SAN  ANTONIO 
DE  BEXAR 


CHAPTER  III. 

SAN  ANTONIO  DE  BEXAB. 

HOW  many  Texans   did  you  say    there  were 
in  the  siege?"  asked  a  tall,  slender,  fair- 
haired  youth. 

"Dead  ones  or  live  ones?"  asked  Orlando,  with  a 
smile. 

"Both." 

"0,  shucks!"  said  the  first  speaker,  Billie  Reese, 
"where  have  you  been  hiding,  Sellers?  Every  baby 
in  Texas  knows  the  story  of  the  Alamo ! ' ' 

"Well,  I  ain't  a  baby,"  said  Harvey,  his  face  flush 
ing. 

"Neither  am  I !'  said  the  smallest  of  the  boys  stand 
ing  in  front  of  the  ruins  of  the  old  Alamo  in  San 
Antonio.  "I  don't  know  how  many  Mexicans  were 
there,  alive  or  dead." 

' '  Well,  said  Orlando,  "  I  don 't  know,  either. ' '  But 
the  letter  that  Colonel  Travis  sent  out  the  first  day 
asking  for  help,  said  that  there  were  over  a  thousand 
in  front  of  the  walls;  and  it  is  said  they  were  rein 
forced  till  they  numbered  six  thousand.  There  were 
one  hundred  and  eighty-two  Texans  inside,  and  they 
held  out  for  eleven  days.  Then,  at  last,  when  the 
awful  siege  was  over  and  all  of  the  brave  Texans 


52  The  Boy  Captive 


were  killed,  Santa  Anna  ordered  their  bodies  burned. 
For  these  and  other  deeds  the  Texans  hated  him." 

General  Houston  had  very  hard  work  at  San  Jacin- 
to  to  save  him  from  the  vengeance  of  the  soldiers. 
In  trying  to  commit  suicide,  Dr.  Phelps,  a  surgeon 
in  the  Texas  army,  saved  his  life,  and  then  took  him 
to  his  home  at  Orizimbo  on  the  Brazos,  near  Velasco, 
where  for  some  months  Santa  Anna  was  in  the 
hands  of  Dr.  Phelps,  where  many  kindnesses  were 
shown  him.  About  the  middle  of  May,  1836, 
David  G.  Burnet  and  other  distinguished  Texans 
went  there  to  get  Santa  Anna  to  sign  a 
treaty  of  peace  in  which  he  would  also  acknowledge 
the  Independence  of  Texas.  This  he  did.  He  was 
then  sent  to  Washington,  the  capital  of  the  United 
States,  where  President  Jackson,  a  great  friend  of 
General  Houston,  was  to  intercede  with  Mexico  in  be 
half  of  the  young  republic.  General  Houston  had 
been  elected  President  of  Texas;  he  thought  it  was 
wise  not  to  keep  so  powerful  a  man  as  prisoner,  but 
many  of  the  Texans  did  not  approve  of  letting  Santa 
Anna  leave  Texas. 

"Father  says  the  siege  of  the  Alamo  beat  the  fight 
of  Thermopylae." 

"What  fight  was  that?"  asked  John,  eagerly. 

"It's  one  that  took  place  hundreds  of  years  ago 
over  in  Greece.  A  captain,  Leonidas,  held  a  moun 
tain  pass  with  three  hundred  men  against  thousands, 
until  he  and  all  of  his  men  were  killed. 


SAN  FERNANDO  CATHEDRAL 
From  the  top  of  this  cathedral  Santa  Anna  bom 
barded  the  Alamo 


THE  ALAMO 


The  Boy  Captive  55 


"How  long  did  they  fight?"  asked  Gilbert  Brush. 

"I  don't  remember,"    said  Orlando,  hesitatingly. 

' '  Orlando  was  quite  young  at  the  time, ' '  said  Billie, 
demurely,  "and  you  can't  expect  him  to  remember 
all  about  it." 

"They  say  the  Texans  in  the  Alamo  killed  fifteen 
hundred  Mexicans.  How  many  did  those  Greeks  kill, 
Orlando?" 

"I  don't  know.     I "  began  Orlando. 

"Came  away  about  that  time,  didn't  you,  Or 
lando  ? ' '  said  Billie,  teasingly. 

"Well,  it's  a  good  while  since  I  read  about  it," 
said  Orlando,  modestly.  "I'll  send  you  the  book, 
John,  when  we  get  home." 

"Say,  John,  would  you  have  stuck  it  out  like  they 
did,  or  would  you  have  surrendered?"  asked  Chris 
Yocum. 

"I  reckon  I'd  have  to  stick  it  out;  for  I  promised 
James  Monroe  that  I'd  nev&r  surrender  this  rifle  to  a 
Mexican." 

"It's  a  little  beauty!"  said  Billie,  looking  at  it 
with  a  critical  eye. 

"It  surely  is!"  said  a  soft,  drawling  voice  behind 
them,  with  a  decided  Virginian  accent ;  ' '  and  you  keep 
your  grip  on  it  now,  for  that  thieving  red-skin  over 
there  has  been  eyeing  it  for  half  an  hour. ' ' 

The  boys  turned  and  looked  up  at  the  pleasant 
dark-eyed  young  man  who  spoke.  He  was  a  verit 
able  young  giant,  being  considerably  over  six  feet 


56  The  Boy  Captive 

and  built  in  good  proportions.  He  wore  a  broad- 
brimmed  slouch  felt  hat,  somewhat  the  worse  for 
wear,  but  it  looked  well  on  his  curly  black  hair.  A 
buckskin  shirt  elaborately  fringed,  a  pair  of  fringed 
leather  leggins  over  black  trousers  and  beaded  moc 
casins,  constituted  his  costume,  unless  his  revolver 
and  bowie  knife  be  included. 

"Why,  I  never  heard  you  come  up  at  all!"  said 
John. 

"No?"  said  the  new-comer,  grinning  cheerfully 
down  at  the  bright-faced  boy.  "I  don't  aim  to  make 
much  noise  when  I  move  'round.  It  won't  do  in  my 
business.  Ain't  your  name  Hill?" 

"Yes.  How  did  you  know  that?  I  don't  know 
you." 

"Anybody  can  tell  a  hill  when  they  see  it,  if  it  is 
only  an  anthill."  said  Billie,  the  wag. 

' '  Look  here,  Billie,  somebody  will  put  you  out  some 
day,  thinking  you  are  a  fire;  you  are  so  awful  quick 
and  bright,"  said  Harvey,  crushingly. 

The  tall  young  man  laughed  joyfully  at  the  joking 
boys  and  answered  John's  question. 

"I  heard  you  say  that  James  Monroe  gave  you 
that  rifle,  and  I  knew  a  man  at  LaGrange  by  that 
name.  Besides,  you  look  like  the  Hills.  I  used  to 
live  down  that  way.  My  name  is  Wallace." 

"Big  Foot  Wallace?"  chorused  the  boys. 

This  tribute  to  his  reputation  that  the  breathless 


The  Boy  Captive  57 


accents  of  the  boys  paid,  was  appreciated,  but  the 
daring  young  scout  gave  little  sign. 

"Christened  William,"  he  remarked,  drily. 

"It  was  you  that  brought  the  ammunition  to 
Seguin, ' '  said  Billie. 

"Say,  Mr.  Wallace,  tell  us,  how  you  happened  to 
come  back  that  way?" 

"There  ain't  no  settlements  between  Austin  and 
San  Antonio,"  said  Wallace,  lifting  his  hat  off  his 
glossy  black  curls,  and  wiping  the  sweat  from  his 
forehead.  "Injuns  are  mighty  bad  just  now.  Mal- 
lon  and  me  helped  bury  a  man  they  killed  and  scalp 
ed  while  we  were  there.  So  we  concluded  that  it 
wouldn't  do  to  fight  a  lot  of  red-skins  with  a  keg  of 
powder  on  my  saddle.  Besides,  we  knew  we  could 
get  plenty  of  corn  for  our  horses  by  coming  that 
way." 

"You  lived  in  Austin,  too,  didn't  you?"  asked 
John. 

"Uh-lmh,"  said  Big  Foot. 

"Say,"  said  Billie,  "those  Injuns  are  coming  over 
here.  You  watch  out,  for  that  old  buck  is  full  of 
whiskey. ' ' 

"Don't  you  give  them  any  money,"  said  Wallace 
under  his  breath,  "and,  son,  don't  let  him  put  his 
paws  on  your  rifle." 

The  group  of  Indians  came  up  and  stood  in  stolid 
silence  gazing  at  the  boys.  The  six  boys  had  buck 
skin  shirts  on,  for  the  deer  had  been  so  plentiful  in 


58  The  Boy  Captive 


the  vicinity,  that  many  of  the  men  had  employed 
their  time  in  dressing  the  skins  and  making  shirts 
and  leggins.  John  had  felt  very  proud  of  his  shirt 
with  its  fringe ;  but  when  he  saw  that  of  the  big  chief 
with  its  beautiful  bead  embroidery,  his  own  seemed 
quite  commonplace.  The  chief  had  a  very  unpleasant 
appearance,  for  his  eyebrows  and  lashes  had  been  pull 
ed  out  and  a  broad  streak  of  red  and  yellow  paint 
went  across  his  face,  and  around  his  eyes.  His  ears 
had  large  brass  rings  swinging  from  the  lobes.  The 
other  Indians  were  dressed  in  a  similar  garb,  but 
not  so  gaudily.  All  had  guns  and  knives.  Although 
the  boys  knew  that  these  were  friendly  Indians  and 
were  employed  in  Captain  Hayes'  company  as  govern 
ment  scouts,  they  did  not  enjoy  the  silent  scrutiny  of 
the  strange  eyes  of  the  Indians. 

"Big  Chief,  give  me  four  bits,"  said  the  leader, 
addressing  Wallace.  "Want  whiskey." 

"Captain  Jack  says  we  must  go  dry  if  we  ride 
with  him. ' ' 

"Huh!  Give  me  four  bits!"  repeated  the  red 
man. 

"Ain't  seen  that  much  money  in  a  month  of  Sun 
days.  Wait  till  Sam  Houston  sends  our  pay. ' ' 

"That  chief  is  sharp,"  said  Big  Foot,  admiringly. 
"Somehow,  I  never  thought  an  Indian  had  much  fun 
aboard  of  him." 

"I  reckon  they  don't  feel  funny  when  they  see 
you;  you  are  generally  fighting  them-" 


Big-  Foot  Wallace. 


The  Boy  Captive  61 


"That's  right!  But  one  of  them  played  a  joke  on 
me  that  I  am  bound  to  get  even  with  him  for."  said 
Big  Foot,  wagging  his  curly  head. 

"What  was  that?"  asked  the  boys,  eagerly. 

"Settin's  as  cheap  as  standin',"  said  Big  Foot, 
calmly  squatting  on  the  ground ;  and  the  boys  prompt 
ly  "hunkered"  in  an  admiring  circle. 

"When  I  went  up  to  Austin,  the  government  folks 
and  the  high-toned  foreign  ministers  wanted  to  build 
some  good  houses.  Most  everybody  was  living  in  tents 
or  little  cabins,  and  that  won't  do  for  the  capital  of  a 
republic.  There  was  lots  of  money  to  be  made  if  a 
man  had  the  courage  to  go  up  the  river  to  Mount 
Bonnel  where  the  big  cedar  grew.  Most  of  the  men 
were  afraid  to  go  because  it  is  a  regular  stamping 
ground  for  the  Injuns.  I  got  a  pretty  good  price 
for  rafting  cedar  down  the  Colorado.  Billie  Fox 
and  me  had  a  cabin  in  the  town.  He  was  an  awful 
lively  fellow,  always  joking  and  having  his  fun  out 
of  everything.  One  morning  here  comes  a  man,  hot 
foot,  on  the  trail  to  our  door,  and  jumps  on  me  and 
says  I  stole  some  of  his  truck.  I  asked  him  how  he 
made  that  out,  and  he  said  he  had  tracked  me  from 
his  cabin  straight  to  ours.  Billie  Fox  said  I  had  not 
been  out  of  the  house.  I  was  awful  mad,  and  reached 
for  him,  but  then  I  thought  I  would  wait  a  bit,  seeing 
he  was  not  so  big  as  me.  So  I  says  'show  me  the 
tracks.'  We  went  out  and  sure  enough,  there  was 
the  tracks,  moccasins  just  like  I  wore!  'Well,'  says 

4 


62  The  Boy  Captive 


I,  'they  ain't  my  tracks,'  and  I  set  my  foot  down  in 
one  of  them.  It  was  two  inches  longer  than  my  moc 
casin." 

"  'It's  old  Big  Foot  Injin,"  says  Fox.  "Can't 
you  see  how  the  toes  point  in?  That  thieving  old 
Injun  spent  most  of  his  time  skulking  around  Shoal 
Creek  bottom.  Everybody  knew  of  old  Big  Foot. 
He  is  nearly  seven  feet  high,  and  he  must  weigh  near 
ly  three  hundred.  Well,  the  man,  he  felt  awful  cut 
up,  and  apologized,  and  we  all  took  a  drink  on  it ;  but 
Billie  Fox  would  tell  the  story  on  me. ' ' 

"Did  you  catch  old  Big  Foot?"  asked  Harvey. 

"No,"  said  Wallace,  "poor  Fox  took  to  calling  me 
Big  Foot  Wallace  and  I  swore  that  I'd  kill  old  Big 
Foot  for  revenge.  One  day  Fox  was  workin'  in  a 
little  patch  of  corn  he  was  trying  to  raise,  and  that 
Injun  killed  him.  I  have  hunted  him  ever  since,  but 
could  never  get  within  rifle  shot.  I  reckon  that  name 
will  stick  to  me  as  long  as  I  live."  (It  did.  The 
young  scout  became  famous  for  his  deeds  of  daring 
and  carried  the  nickname  to  the  day  of  his  death.) 

"Say,  how  much  longer  do  you  suppose  we  will 
wait  before  we  follow  the  Mexicans?"  asked  Harvey. 

"We  have  to  wait  till  this  row  about  Burleson  and 
Sommervelle  is  settled,"  said  Orlando.  "Most  of  the 
men  say  they  have  the  right  to  choose  our  leader  ac 
cording  to  the  constitution.  But  President  Hous 
ton  says,  that's  his  business.  There  it  is.  We  chose 
General  Burleson,  he  chooses  General  Sommervelle. 


The  Boy  Captive  63 


Everybody  knows  that  Burleson  never  backs  out, 
always  fights  and  never  gets  whipped.  Who  knows 
about  Sommervelle  ? " 

Quien  sdbe,"  said  Wallace,  softly. 

"Lots  of  men  have  gone  back,"  said  Harvey, 
"since  they  know  General  Sommervelle  is  going  to 
lead  them." 

"What  a  pretty  branch  that  is  over  there,"  said 
Billie. 

"That's  no  branch;  that's  a  'cequia,  (a  made  ditch) 
and  it'll  take  a  good  many  twists  of  your  tongue, 
Johnny  boy,  before  you  ever  roll  these  funny  Spanish 
names  off  your  tongue  right,"  said  Big  Foot. 

"Well,  you  just  watch  me,  Mr.  Wallace,  and  some 
day  I'll  speak  it  equal  to  any  Mexican  in  the  land," 
responded  John. 

"Boys,"  said  Big  Foot;  "you  better  stop  joking 
and  think  a  little.  Keep  your  eyes  open  and  you'll 
see  a  lot  of  strange  things  here  in  this  old  town  of  St. 
Anthony.  Them  old  Spanish  fathers  certainly  had 
a  keen  eye  to  business.  Just  look  at  the  water  of  this 
river ;  how  they  Ve  dug  ditches  until  it 's  a  regular  net 
work  of  water  runin'  over  miles  and  miles  of  this 
barren  region.  No  sooner  did  they  clap  their  eyes  on 
this  here  river  than  they  began  to  plan  about  making 
the  Injuns  dig  ditches  and  irrigate  this  land  till  it 
would  blossom  like  the  rose,  and  comin'  generations 
would  rise  up  to  bless  them  for  fixin'  this  water  so 
convenient,  showin'  that  them  old  fathers  had  busi- 


64  The  Boy  Captive 

ness  sense  and  lots  of  judgment  as  well  as  religion. 

"An  old  Mexican  woman,"  continued  Big  Foot 
"told  me  the  names  of  the  main  'cequias.  The  Paja- 
lache,  or  Mission  Concepcion,  is  the  oldest  of  all,  be 
gun  in  1729.  It  runs  right  up  yonder  from  a  dam 
they  made  the  Injuns  build  across  the  river,  away 
down  below  where  we  are  campin'  at  the  old  Mission 
Conception.  Then  besides,  just  think  of  that  tunnel 
the  old  fathers  made  the  Indians  build  running  from 
San  Pedro  Springs  to  the  Mission  Concepcion.  It 
was  made  to  protect  the  fathers  and  the  friendly 
Indians  from  the  sudden  attacks  and  the  barbarous 
Indians.  You  see  how  deep  andcl  ear  it  is?  Well, 
them  redskins  had  to  go  up  and  down  it  in  a  little  boat 
and  clean  it  out,  for  the  water  had  to  be  drunk  and 
used  for  every  sort  of  purpose  at  the  Missions. 
Then  there  are  the  San  Pedro,  the  Alamo,  and  the 
Upper  Labor  ditches;  to  say  nothing  of  the  miles  of 
little  ditches  connectin'  these  big  ones  and  making 
a  perfect  network  all  over  this  valley. ' ' 

"Wish  I  could  see  the  place  where  this  pretty  river 
starts  from,"  said  Billie. 

"So  do  I,"  chorused  the  other  boys.  And  Big  Foot 
no  more  than  a  big  boy  himself,  told  them  "all  right," 
and  away  they  went  at  a  brisk  canter — Jim  Dandy, 
with  his  light  rider,  leading  the  way. 

"How  deep  and  clear  and  pretty  the  water  is,  just 
boiling  right  up  in  all  these  springs,  and  making  such 
a  pretty  stream  as  it  goes. 


The  Boy  Captive  65 


In  some  places  it  looks  like  you  can  jump  across 
it,  but  runs  fast,  though — going  everywhere  them  old 
Spanish  fathers  wanted  her  to ;  for  a  long  time  after, 
the  old  San  Antonio  river,  from  source  to  mouth,  be 
longed  to  the  King  of  Spain,  and  right  along  on  its 
banks  the  priests  were  smart  enough  to  build  their 
missions. ' ' 

"Look,"  said  John.  "I  threw  in  a  dime,  and  it's 
a  shining,  down  maybe  twenty  feet,  like  a  diamond." 
mond. ' ' 

"Time's  up,"  said  Big  Foot.  "We've  got  to  go 
to  the  Mission  for  our  dinner,  and  it's  high  time  we 
were  off ;  it 's  four  or  five  miles  from  here. ' ' 

As  they  followed  the  course  of  the  Pajalache  ditch 
Billie  said: 

"  I  'd  like  to  bathe  in  this  water. ' ' 

"They  don't  allow  bathin'  in  these  cequias,"  said 
Big  Foot,  cheerfully. 

"But  when  we  get  to  the  Mission  we  will  try  a 
plunge  in  the  river. ' ' 

"Come  on,  Mr.  Wallace;  let's  be  movin'.  Look  at 
that  store  over  there,"  said  Gilbert.  "Looks  like  the 
Mexicans  handled  it  pretty  rough. ' ' 

"No,"  said  Wallace,  beginning  to  laugh.  "That's 
John  Twohig's  store.  He  heard  that  the  Mexicans 
were  coming  and  he  swore  that  they  shouldn't  steal 
his  stock  like  they  did  last  March,  and  he  fixed  some 
powder  and  blew  the  whole  thing  up." 


66  The  Boy  Captive 

"He  did  a  good  a  job,"  said  Billie,  eyeing  the  ruins 
with  deep  interest.  "I  bet  provisions  were  never  so 
high  in  San  Antonio." 

"I  think,"  said  Orlando,  " Billie 's  stomach  must 
be  empty,  and  his  brain  is  working  too  hard.  We 
must  get  him  something  to  eat  and  quiet  him. ' ' 

Riding  slowly  along  these  historic  by-ways,  an  al 
most  profound  silence  fell  upon  the  little  group  of 
adventurers — Big  Foot  suddenly  broke  the  silence  by 
saying,  "Well,  boys  I  guess  you  haven't  thought 
much  about  Santonie  and  them  first  Spanish  settle 
ments  away  back,  too  long  ago  to  be  remembered? 
The  King  of  Spain  had  the  charter  and  the  families 
who  first  came  to  live  here  were  from  the  Canary 
Islands,  with  the  finest  Spanish  blood  in  their  veins, 
and  all  these  old  Missions  hereabouts  shows  up  them 
old  fathers  as  being  mighty  earnest  and  pushing  in 
their  labors  to  make  Christians  out  of  the  heathen, 
barbarous  Injuns.  Jest  think  boys  what  stuff  them 
priests  was  made  of,  to  ketch  up  them  wild  fighting 
Injuns  jest  like  they  was  horses  or  cows  and  hang 
on  to  'em  by  main  strength  or  awkardness,  corral  'em 
in  pens,  or  inch  by  inch,  by  work,  by  prayer,  by  beads, 
by  every  sort  of  thing  known  to  man,  till  the  poor 
savages,  or  a  few  of  them  at  least,  was  made  into 
Christians.  They  were  instructed  by  able  masters  in 
this  way  to  carve  or  make  images  and  saints — was 
taught  to  sing  the  ways  of  the  Catholic  priests,  and  in 
the  fields  and  gardens  were  taught  to  train  vines,  to 


The  Boy  Captive  67 

weave  vloth,  make  baskets  and  all  sorts  of  work  in 
domestic  life — but  its  mighty  strange,  when  you  think 
about  it,  that  in  little  more  than  a  century  of  time, 
with  patience  and  a  deep  love  of  labor,  they  succeeded 
in  getting  about  seven  thousand  of  them  redskins  to 
get  a  religious  move  on  'em. ' ' 

The  Alamo  Mission  that  the  boys  had  just  visited 
stood  near  the  center  of  the  town,  which  when  the 
monks  abandoned  it,  was  used  as  a  fort;  for  the 
Fathers,  too,  had  to  reckon  with  the  hostile  savages, 
foes  alike  to  themselves  and  their  converts. 

Now  the  boys  had  gazed  on  these  crumbling  ruins, 
for  the  walls  had  been  cannonaded  by  the  Mexican 
troops  in  1836.  It  was  here  that  the  little  garrison 
of  San  Antonio  intrenched  itself  and  vainly  waited 
for  re-inforcements,  and  after  eleven  days  of  fighting, 
left  not  one  man  to  tell  the  story. 

But  their  sacrifices  were  not  in  vain.  They  left 
their  countrymen  a  victorious  war-cry,  "Remember 
the  Alamo,"  that  won  the  field  of  San  Jacinto. 

Alamo  is  the  Spanish  name  of  the  cotton-wood  tree, 
and  the  Mission  was  built  in  a  grove  of  these  beauti 
ful  trees.  In  plain  view,  in  and  out,  rippled  the 
beautiful  clear  water  of  the  San  Antonio  river,  one 
of  the  loveliest  streams  in  the  world.  Back  and  forth 
it  wound  among  the  houses  of  this  old  town,  and 
numerous  acequias  led  it  to  the  fields  and  gardens 
where  the  crops  were  irrigated. 

The  wives  of  the  American  settlers  with  their  child- 


68  The  Boy  Captive 

ren  had  fled  in  March  when  Vazquez  made  his  raid. 
Many  of  the  Spanish  settlers  had  left  to  live  in  Mexico 
or  had  retired  to  the  old  town  of  San  Augustine ;  but 
the  Mexican  population  remained  in  happy  indiffer 
ence  begotten  of  contented  poverty.  They  had  nothing 
to  lose  and  everything  to  gain  from  the  presence  of 
soldiers,  Mexican  or  Texan,  since  it  furnished  a  mar 
ket  for  their  simple  edibles  and  gave  the  women  a 
chance  to  reap  a  little  profit  from  laundry  work. 

Big  Foot  Wallace  and  the  boys  rode  through  the 
pleasant  crooked  little  streets  with  much  enjoyment. 
Often  they  passed  groups  of  women  washing  clothes 
at  the  river's  edge  under  the  shade  of  the  great 
cypress  and  pecan  trees. 

One  place  was  very  pleasant  to  look  at  with  its 
garden  full  of  fig  trees  and  pomegranates;  several 
china  trees  with  their  shining  dark  green  crowns  gave 
much  beauty  to  the  place.  It  was  the  home  of  Mr. 
Sam  Maverick,  one  of  the  men  who  had  been  captured 
a  few  weeks  before. 

"Mr.  Wallace,  I  want  to  know,"  said  Harvey,  "did 
you  know  that  Sam  Maverick's  body-servant,  Griffin, 
was  killed  with  Dawson's  men?" 

"  No !     How  did  he  get  with  them  ? ' ' 

"He  was  sent  with  Mrs.  Maverick  in  March,  at  the 
time  they  sent  all  the  women  and  childern  away. 
She  was  at  LaGrange  when  she  heard  that  her  hus 
band  was  taken  prisoner;  so  she  sent  Griffin  on  with 
Nick  Dawson.  He  had  a  lot  of  gold  in  a  belt.  He 


The  Boy  Captive  69 

was  to  try  and  ransom  his  master.  He  could  have 
gotten  through  the  lines  to  Maverick  as  easy  as  noth 
ing." 

"Whoopee!  There's  the  Mission,"  and  the  whole 
party  finished  the  remainder  of  the  two  miles  in  a  mad 
gallop. 

Harvey  had  preceded  the  others,  and  was  stretch 
ed  full  length  by  the  side  of  the  acequia  drinking 
freely  of  the  delicious  cold  water.  The  rest  of  the 
party  sprang  from  their  horses  and  followed  his 
example. 

"I  don't  see,"  said  Big  Foot,  "I  don't  see  why 
Injuns  are  so  crazy  for  whiskey  when  there  is  such 
good  water  as  that." 

"Huh,"  said  Billie,  cutting  a  knowing  look  at  Big 
Foot,  "You  don't  drink  whiskey?" 

' '  Only  for  pleasure, ' '  said  Big  Foot  blandly.  ' '  The 
Indian,  he  makes  a  business  of  it." 


ON  THE 
TRAIL 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ON   THE  TRAIL. 

TWO  long  months  had  dragged  their  weary 
length  since  the  call  for  volunteers  had 
sounded,  and  at  last  a  force  of  seven  hun 
dred  men  had  been  gathered.  A  slow  and  tedious 
process;  for  every  citizen  soldier  had  first  to  provide 
for  the  welfare  and  protection  of  his  household  in 
his  absence. 

John  and  the  other  boys  had  faithfully  explored 
the  surrounding  country,  spending  much  time  among 
the  quaint  old  buildings  of  the  different  Missions  that 
cluster  around  San  Antonio. 

Of  all  the  boys,  John  was  the  handsomest.  His 
little  slender,  well-shaped  body,  his  beautiful  dark 
eyes  that  seemed  always  laughing,  his  perfect  fea 
tures,  his  clear,  olive  skin,  with  a  glow  of  health, 
made  him  the  admired  of  all.  But  his  unselfish  re 
gard  for  the  rights  of  others,  his  anxiety  to  be  of  use, 
his  ungrudging  admiration  of  his  comrades  and  un 
consciousness  of  any  particular  merit  in  himself,  won 
the  love  of  all. 

In  the  open  space  before  the  old  Mission  Concep- 
cion,  the  boys  were  now  lounging,  being  detailed  to 
watch  the  camp. 

The  western  sun  threw  its  last,  level  rays  on  the 
once  gorgeous,  but  now  faded  front  of  the  old  church. 


72  The  Boy  Captive 

Under  the  vivifying  touch  of  light,  the  red  and  blue 
crosses  renewed  their  coloring.  The  yellow  and 
orange  background  gleamed  back  with  its  mock"  gold. 
For  the  hundredth  time,  perhaps,  John  sat  with 
dreamy  eyes  fixed  on  the  inscription  over  the  door 
way,  and  its  fascinating  surroundings,  symbolic,  to 
him,  of  mysterious  and  unknown  things.  Over  again 
he  spelled  the  words:  "Asv  Patrona  y  Princessa  con 
estas  armas  Atiende  esta  Mission,  y  Defiende  el  punto 
de  su  Pureza."  Which  translated  means:  "With 
these  arms  be  mindful  of  the  Mission's  Patroness  and 
Princess,  and  defend  (or  vindicate)  the  state  of  her 
purity." 

Though  he  had  been  told  its  meaning,  his  kind 
translator  had  been  unable  to  tell  who  the  ' '  Princess ' ' 
was ;  and  when  asked  where  she  lived,  he  had  answer 
ed  gaily:  "In  a  castle  in  Spain!"  at  which  the  boys 
laughed  heartily  and  John  blushed  to  think  that  it 
was  he  that  had  caused  it. 

"That  lariat's  done  pretty  good,"  said  Billie  eye 
ing  critically  the  flagellum  circling  in  and  out  among 
the  words  of  the  inscription  in  realistic  carving. 
"But  why  in  thunder  did  they  spoil  it  with  all  those 
knots?" 

"Why,  that  is  meant  for  the  rope  they  whipped 
themselves  with,  and  those  knots  were  to  make  the 
blood  come!"  answered  John,  proud  of  his  bits  of 
knowledge,  and  glad  to  share  them. 


The  Boy  Captive  73 

"The  better  they  were  the  more  they  thrashed 
themselves!  You'd  have  done  "just  the  way  they 
done,  cause  you  would  have  been  one  of  them;  and 
they  did  not  take  the  easy  way  of  anything,  or  they 
Xiever  would  have  come  away  out  here  to  these  In 
juns.  ' ' 

The  story  of  these  Franciscan  Brothers  had  made 
a  deep  impression  on  the  minds  of  the  boys.  This 
massive  building  with  its  quaint  carvings  awoke  new 
thoughts  within  these  young  minds.  Little  by  little, 
John  had  gleaned  its  story  from  the  men  who  were 
awaiting  marching  orders.  There  were  many  students 
among  them;  college  graduates  jostled  arms  with  the 
illiterate  hunter;  the  trained  soldier  ate  his  vension 
side  by  side  with  the  hardy  scout;  the  grandson  of 
Patrick  Henry  joked  with  the  little  German  musician. 

John,  with  that  instinctive  delicacy  of  preception 
that  characterized  him  all  of  his  life,  had  soon  learn 
ed  whom  and  when  he  might  safely  catechise  on  this, 
to  him,  most  interesting  subject. 

His  family  were  Methodists ;  and  as  all  of  the  Tex 
an  Protestants  were  still  sore  and  resentful  at  the 
Catholic  yoke  forced  on  them  by  the  Mexican  govern 
ment,  it  was  not  strange  that  he  regarded  the  Catholics 
with  contempt  and  suspicion. 

The  story  of  these  men,  Roman  Catholic  of  pro 
nounced  type,  who  had  renounced  all  that  the  world 
can  give  in  wealth,  pomp  and  power,  even  the  good 
ly  heritage  of  their  noble  names,  and  laid  these  offer- 


74  The  Boy  Captive 


ings  on  the  altar  of  religion,  and  lived  and  died  in 
an  unknown  wilderness  among  untutored  savages  for 
the  love  of  Christ  and  to  save  souls,  seemed  incredible. 

And  yet  these  buildings  were  indisputable  proof  of 
thir  energy  and  zeal.  That  the  Indians  had  per 
formed  much  of  the  actual  labor  added  to  the  im 
mensity  of  the  task,  for  John  was  well  aware  of  the 
redman's  deep  rooted  aversion  to  work. 

The  sun  had  gone  down,  and  the  splendor  of  the 
mission  had  vanished.  John  was  the  first  to  speak, 
saying : ' '  Look  boys,  this  fire 's  about  out,  and  the  meat 
has  to  be  cooked." 

"Come  on,  Orlando,  let  us  go  get  the  wood,"  said 
Billie,  flinging  off  towards  the  river. 

"Guess  we'll  eat  supper  at  the  Medina  to-morrow 
night,"  said  Harvey,  as  he  raked  the  coals  out  on 
one  side  and  set  the  coffee  pot  on. 

"I  say,"  said  Billie,  sinking  his  voice  to  a  con 
fidential  pitch,  "have  you  heard  the  men  talking 
about  the  General?  They  say  that  if  Burleson  had 
held  on,  instead  of  giving  up  to  Sommervelle,  there 
would  have  been  four  or  five  thousand  men.  Believe 
it?" 

"I  don't  know ,"  said  John  hesitatingly,  "four 

or  five  thousand  is  a  good  many.  But  lots  did  go  back 
on  account  of  General  Burleson 's  not  leading.  Fath 
er  said  so." 

' '  Well,  there  are  only  seven  hundred  now ;  may  be  a 
few  more.  Can't  tell  till  they  get  together;  the  rea- 


75 


The  Boy  Captive 


son  the  camps  have  been  kept  scattered  was  so  the 
Mexican  spies  could  not  tell  how  many  there  are." 

Familiar  with  the  garb  of  the  frontier  it  did  not 
occur  to  these  young  minds  that  there  was  anything 
new,  peculiar  or  picturesque  in  the  appearance  of 
these  hardy  men  who  constituted  the  command.  But 
there  was  buckskin,  broad  cloth,  trousers  of  coarse 
jeans,  flannel,  blue  or  whitet  cotton  shirts,  all  were  as 
plentiful  as  the  deerskin  hunting  shirts.  In  the 


Mission  Conception 

haste  of  preparation  each  man  had  worn  what  he  had, 
without  a  thought  of  what  he  looked  like. 

The  attention  of  the  boys  was  distracted  by  the 
arrival  of  three  young  men  wearing  leather  overalls. 


76  The  Boy  Captive 

These  were  commonly  called  "chaps,"  perhaps  with 
reference  to  being  worn  when  riding  through  the 
chapperrel  after  cattle.  Each  wore  a  gay  silk  hand 
kerchief  knotted  around  his  sunburned  throat,  each 
pushed  his  wide-brimmed  hat  as  far  back  on  his  head 
as  safety  would  allow,  thereby  showing  a  little  rim  of 
white  forehead  between  the  thatch  of  hair  and  the 
sunburned  face.  He  recognized  them  as  part  of  the 
famous  "Cowboy"  company,  and  he  drew  a  long 
sigh  of  pleasure  as  he  watched  them  swing  out  of  the 
saddle  as  only  a  cowboy  can,  and  step  off  in  that  pecu 
liar  stilting  gait,  caused  by  the  high  heels  of  their 
boots,  and  made  musical  by  the  clinking  of  their  enor 
mous  spurs. 

No  such  sunsets  are  to  be  seen  as  those  of  West 
Texas.  On  the  closing  of  this  perfect  day,  the  purple 
horizone  which  hung  about  the  scene  like  an  enchant 
ed  veil,  dropped  by  the  hand  of  some  genius,  gathered 
itself  away  toward  the  northern  sky.  Brighter  and 
brighter  flamed  the  sunset,  bluer  and  deeper  and  deeper 
grew  the  sky  above  them ;  the  pink  cloud  changed  into 
a  black  mountain.  Suddenly  the  sun  so  reluctant, 
dropped  out  of  sight.  The  gleaming  opal  later  van- 
inshed,  the  cloud  bars  changed  color,  the  pale  evening 
star  shook  like  a  silver  leaf  above  the  horizon,  the  air 
grew  chill,  and  the  golden  prairie  became  sombre. 

They  had  now  reached  the  beautiful,  clear,  swift 
running  Medina,  and  having  found  a  suitable  spot, 
the  activities  of  camp  life  were  soon  in  full  motion. 


The  Boy  Captive  77 


Carcasses  of  beef  and  deer  were  soon  hanging  in 
gory  nakedness,  on  poles  supported  by  the  forked 
tops  of  stakes  set  solidly  in  the  ground. 

One  stout  young  fellow  held  John's  respectful  ad 
miration.  His  straight,  sinewy  figure  was  clad  in  a 
buckskin  suit  elaborately  fringed;  on  his  curly  hair, 
which  he  wore  quite  long,  as  was  the  custom,  a  ' '  coon- 
skin"  cap  rested  jauntily,  the  long  tail  of  the  animal 
had  not  been  cut  off,  and  waved  in  a  most  realistic 
manner  as  his  muscular  arms  moved.  With  easy  dex 
terity,  he  drew  the  sharp  bowie  through  the  red  flesh, 
tossing  welcome  pieces  to  the  expectant  dogs,  or  hand 
ing  large  and  more  choice  portions  to  the  different 
purveyors  at  the  many  camp  fires.  John  never  stop 
ped  until  he  found  this  gallant  young  fellow  was 
Captain  Ewen  Cameron,  who  commanded  the  cow 
boys. 

The  many  fires  twinkled,  the  stalwart  forms  moved 
in  and  out  of  the  light  and  shadow.  The  cooks  with 
hats  slouched  to  shade  their  eyes  from  the  firelight, 
maintained  a  fierce  intensity  of  expression  as  they 
skillfully  turned  the  hoecakes,  or  watched  the  roast 
ing  meat  on  the  forked  stick,  twirling  it  dextrously  at 
just  the  right  moment.  Quiet  groups  of  men  with 
slight  interest  were  playing  cards,  while  an  outer  cir 
cle  participated  by  lively  sympathy  in  the  varying 
fortune  of  the  players.  The  group  of  Indian  scouts 
with  their  grim  visages  sat  taciturn  and  seemingly  in 
different  to  the  life  that  throbbed  around  them.  Off 

5 


78  The  Boy  Captive 


in  the  gloom  beyond  the  camp  light,  some  weary, 
homesick  man  lay  prone  on  the  sod,  thinking  per 
chance  of  the  wife  and  little  ones,  left  in  the  homely 
little  log  house  to  await  with  anxious  hearts,  his  re 
turn  from  pursuit  of  their  foe. 

John  felt  so  drowsy  that  he  was  glad  when  his 
father  and  Jeff  declared  themselves  ready  for  bed, 
and  soon,  wrapped  in  his  blanket,  he  lay  on  the  soft 
grass  and  in  dreams,  the  mother  once  more  .claimed 
her  child. 

Once  in  the  night  he  awoke  with  a  start  of  fear, 
believing  he  had  heard  the  warwhoop  of  a  savage, 
but  it  was  only  the  owls  down  in  the  pecan  and 
cypress  timber  that  so  thickly  set  the  Medina  bottom. 
He  could  hear  the  bell  of  the  leader  of  the  pack  mules 
with  its  clink-clank,  clink-clank,  slowly  climbing  with 
the  leisurely  movements  of  the  animal  as  it  cropped 
the  rich  herbage,  and  he  thought  he  heard  a  long, 
discordant  scream,  blood-curdling  as  a  maniac's  yell. 
He  reached  a  hand  instantly  toward  Jeff,  then  with 
drew  it  instantly  as  he  recognized  the  call  of  a  pan 
ther.  Close  upon  this  came  the  bellow  of  a  steer, 
which  sounded  so  much  louder  at  night. 

Off  on  the  low  hills  of  the  open  country,  he  could 
hear  cayotes  barking  and  snarling  or  howling  pite- 
ously;  and  then  the  dogs  in  camp  would  respond, 
rushing  forward  in  a  semi-circle,  yelping  furiously, 
then  setting  back  on  their  haunches,  lift  their  black 


The  Boy  Captive  79 

muzzles  up  toward  the  starry  vault  and  give  vent  to 
a  loud  wail  of  anguishing  sounds. 

In  the  intervals  of  quiet,  between  the  outbursts  of 
canine  melody,  John  caught  the  full  benefit  of  a 
chorus  of  frogs  with  a  heavy  bass  voice  which  kept 
saying,  "Better  go  home!  Better  go  home!  Bet 
ter » 

A  turkey  gobbled,  instantly  a  chorus  arose.  Tur 
keys  gobbled,  roosters  crowed,  hens  cackled,  calves 
and  lambs  bleated,  and  above  all  arose  the  long,  un 
canny  hoot  of  the  owl,  and  then  a  forest  of  them 
replied. 

John  tried  to  ask  what  was  the  matter,  but  could 
not  move  his  lips.  Some  one  shook  him.  He  grunted. 

"Wake  up!"  his  father's  pleasant  voice  said, 
"Don't  you  hear  the  sergeant?" 

An  hour  later  the  camp  was  deserted.  The  expe 
dition  was  on  the  road  to  historical  fame. 

But  they  saw  only  the  Presidio  Trail. 

They  waited  many  days  for  the  arrival  of  the  artil 
lery  and  when  it  came,  to  the  amazement  of  the  men, 
it  was  sent  back  and  the  whole  command  was  thrown 
into  a  state  of  frenzied  anger.  So  it  was 
ordered  that  they  should  begin  their  long  ride 
over  this  uninhabited  country  with  only  their  rifles. 
Perhaps  the  only  light  hearts  among  those  men  were 
our  boy  friends,  who  were  over-eager  for  some  devel 
opment  by  which  they  might  soon  overtake  the  enemy. 
They  were  now  upon  the  identical  highway  over 


80  The  Boy  Captive 


which  only  a  few  weeks  ago  the  San  Antonio  men 
had  marched  as  prisoners — but  for  some  unaccount 
able  reason  they  were  now  ordered  to  take  an  oblique 
cut  to  the  left  from  the  Presidio  Trail,  through 
the  chaparral  to  the  Laredo  Trail,  over  barren  ground 
covered  with  cacti  and  other  thorny  growth,  and 
roamed  over  by  wild  beasts.  Now  bunches  of  ante 
lope  would  cut  across  their  path  and  disappear,  only 
to  make  a  wide  circle  and  re-appear  on  the  same  side 
on  which  they  were  first  seen;  these  beautiful  crea 
tures  have  much  curiosity,  and  it  often  leads  to  their 
death.  Every  hunter  in  the  expedition  knew  that  by 
fastening  something  red  around  him,  he  could  ride 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  innocent  animal  before  it 
would  take  flight.  Herds  of  buffalo,  wild  cattle  and 
horses  were  seen  almost  daily.  Birds  of  every  hue 
and  color;  and  nothing  seemed  so  strange  as  some  of 
the  feathered  inhabitants  of  these  great  plains.  The 
chaparral  cock  which  seemed  to  push  itself  along ;  the 
little  desert  hawk,  which  made  such  an  awful  screach- 
ing  noise  just  after  night;  the  chuckling  wren,  and 
the  plumed  quail;  red  birds,  and  worlds  of  other 
beautiful  and  interesting  members  of  the  feathered 
songsters  of  this  great  uninhabited  region,  gave  the 
boys  great  pleasure. 

They  had  now  reached  the  Nueces,  which  they 
found  a  raging  torrent,  and  Captain  Jack  told  the 
men  he  was  going  to  build  a  bridge.  Some  thought 
he  would  camp  and  wait  for  the  water  to  go  down. 


The  Boy  Captive  81 


"Wait  for  nothing!  What  Jack  says  he  does," 
said  one  of  the  men  .  "He  ain't  one  of  the  waiting 
kind."  Without  an  instant  of  hesitation,  Jack  Hayes 
and  Bogart  plunged  in  and  swam  across.  The  com 
panies  of  Fisher  and  Mitchell  were  sent  forward  to 
do  the  work.  McMullen  spurred  his  horse  down  the 
slope  into  the  muddy  flood,  and  others  followed  him, 
and  soon  John  and  his  comrades  saw  two  giant  trees 
from  either  side  of  the  Nueces  topple,  their  tops  inter 
locking.  The  Nueces  had  a  steep,  high  bluff  on  its 
east  bank,  but  the  west  bank  was  low  and  heavily  tim 
bered.  The  bottom  land  extended  two  or  there  miles 
before  it  reached  any  rise  of  ground.  There  had  been 
heavy  rains  in  the  upper  country,  and  a  stiff  norther 
was  on,  and  the  water  was  icy  cold.  Yet  these  daunt 
less  men,  waist  deep,  in  the  chilling  flood,  hung  with 
one  arm  to  the  trees,  while  they  chopped  the  limbs 
off  to  make  a  flooring  for  the  bridge. 

There  were  plenty  to  help  as  soon  as  they  saw  what 
was  to  be  done ;  but  it  was  not  until  the  next  morning 
that  the  rest  of  the  expedition  filed  slowly  across  the 
valley  of  water  which  was  two  or  three  feet  in  depth, 
until  they  reached  the  actual  stream,  where  they 
found  the  newly  improvised  bridge.  John  was  sur 
prised  to  see  what  a  good  bridge  they  had  built  in  so 
rough  a  way.  Now  that  he  was  closer  he  could  see 
better  what  they  had  done.  The  tall  trees  he  had 
seen  fall  were  the  foundation;  close  across  these  were 
laid  the  limbs  shorn  of  their  smaller  branches.  Then 


82  The  Boy  Captive 


the  smaller  branches,  twigs  and  tula  grass  were  used 
to  fill  up  the  spaces  between,  so  that  even  the  little 
hoofs  of  the  pack  mules  did  not  slip  through. 

For  two  days  they  had  floundered  through  the 
water-soaked  sandy  waste,  but  with  spirits  unsub 
dued.  In  spite  of  the  days  of  fatigue,  night  found 
them  as  joyful  as  ever,  beguiling  the  time  between 
supper  and  slumber  with  songs,  impromptu  burles 
ques,  stories  and  recitations.  One  of  the  star  per 
formers  at  these  nightly  entertainments  was  Lieuten 
ant  Daniel  Drake  Henrie,  of  the  Brazoria  company, 
and  a  prime  favorite  with  officers  and  men.  He  had 
traveled  the  world  over,  had  racy  gift  at  repartee, 
spoke  several  languages,  could  tell  stories  "that 
would  make  a  dog  laugh,"  and  had  a  voice  so  sweet 
that  when  he  sang  "The  Soldier's  Tear,"  it 
was  difficult  to  account  for  the  sudden  colds  that 
afflicted  so  many  of  the  men;  while  "Long,  Long 
Ago"  would  produce  a  wave  of  homesickness  among 
those  who  had  sweethearts  or  sisters,  who  sang  this 
sweet  melody  in  their  homes  so  far  away. 

However,  it  was  a  relief  to  all  when  once  they 
found  the  smooth,  firm  ground  of  the  trail  to  Laredo. 
Once  more  the  luxuriant  grass  appeared,  and  the  mes- 
quite  that  made  the  plain  a  waving,  shimmering  mass 
of  green  in  the  summer.  The  boughs  were  laden  with 
the  long  seed  pods  and  the  horses  snatched  many  de 
licious  mouthfuls  as  they  jogged  along  the  monoto 
nous  way. 


The  Boy  Captive  83 


If  the  animals  feasted  on  the  beans  of  the  mes- 
quite,  one  of  the  most  nutritious  and  healthful  of 
foods  for  cattle  or  horses,  the  men  also  found  the  roots 
of  the  trees  of  service,  for  they  had  to  dig  down  deep 
into  the  ground  for  firewood. 

When  night  came  on,  all  lay  down  to  rest  except 
those  who  were  on  guard.  Nor  did  they  heed  the 
signs  of  the  approaching  storm.  They  had  no  tents, 
nor  did  they  desire  them,  for  the  most  of  them  had 
become  familiar  with  the  rough  life  of  the  frontier, 
and  if  they  had  a  horse,  rifle,  and  ammunition,  they 
could  always  find  game  to  eat  and  the  whole  earth  for 
a  bed;  everybody  slept. 

There  were  two  hundred  pack-mules,  which  with 
the  horses  of  the  men,  made  over  a  thousand  head  of 
stock ;  these  had  to  graze  at  night  for  the  men  rode  in 
the  day.  Each  man  hobbled  his  horse  and  then  the 
guard  rode  the  circle  at  night.  Of  course,  the  guard 
was  divided  into  watches.  Usually  the  men  did  this 
duty  with  cheerfulness,  but  on  this  particular  night  it 
was  an  unpleasant  as  well  as  dangerous  duty,  for 
Jack  Hayes  and  Ben  McCullough  had  left  the  main 
division  after  seeing  that  the  bridge  was  started  in 
the  right  manner.  They  were  only  sixty  miles  from 
Laredo,  where  a  troop  of  Mexicans  was  quartered, 
whom  Sommervelle  hoped  to  take  by  surprise. 

Probably  there  were  Mexican  spies  watching  for 
the  Texan  force ;  and  too,  they  had  been  warned  that 
the  Nueces  river  was  infested  by  Apaches,  who  were 


84  The  Boy  Captive 

even  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the  Comanches. 

The  night  was  dark,  and  the  wind  which  had  died 
down  in  the  afternoon,  sprang  into  fresh  fury  and 
brought  with  it  a  heavy  rain.  The  men  on  guard  went 
whistling  and  singing  to  keep  their  horses,  which 
seemed  to  be  scenting  approaching  danger,  in  the  cir 
cle,  as  the  cold  rain  stung  like  nettles. 

Suddenly  it  came,  and  pell-mell,  without  any  seem 
ing  reason,  several  thousand  hoofs  were  beating  the 
earth  in  a  wild  flight  from  the  nameless  terror. 

Right  over  the  sleeping  camp  they  galloped.  The 
startled  sleepers  sprang  to  their  feet  terror  stricken, 
not  knowing  whether  it  was  an  earthquake  or  cyclone, 
Mexicans  or  Indians. 

There  was  no  more  sleep  that  night  for  all  realized 
the  seriousness  of  their  predicament.  Fortunately 
the  men  on  guard  were  expecting  the  catastrophe,  and 
so  they  rode  with  the  maddened  throng,  it  was 
not  long  before  many  of  the  fugitives  trotted  meekly 
into  camp. 

One  unfortunate  man,  the  Rev.  Edward  L.  Fon 
taine,  a  grandson  of  Patrick  Henry,  saw  the  horses 
coming,  and  trying  to  get  out  of  the  way  fell  into  a 
mass  of  prickly  pear.  A  most  horrible  experience! 
Fortunately  the  Captain  of  his  company  was  Dr.  Je 
rome  B.  Robertson,  an  able  physician,  as  well  as  Cap 
tain,  and  he  began  at  once  to  remove  the  thorns 
before  they  had  time  to  work  into  the  flesh,  and  pro- 


The  Boy  Captive  85 


duce  the  innumerable  tiny,  festering  sores  which  are 
so  hard  to  heal. 

While  the  men  were  engaged  in  an  animated  discus 
sion,  a  thrill  of  expectation  and  excitement  ran 
through  the  command ;  they  saw  Flaco  ride  into  camp 
and  hold  a  consultation  with  General  Sommervelle. 

He  brought  news  of  the  capture  of  two  Mexican 
scouts,  which  fired  the  weary  men  with  new  enthusi 
asm.  Forgotten  were  wet  clothes,  bruises,  scanty  pro 
visions,  and  the  lack  of  blankets !  Forgotten  the  long 
monotonous  stretches  of  wilderness,  the  thorny  chap 
arral,  the  quagmire !  Forgotten  the  strife,  and  dissen 
sion  of  leaders !  They  only  remembered  that  revenge 
was  now  within  their  grasp.  Only  sixty  short  miles 
away  lay  the  hated  foe  in  unsuspecting  ease. 

To  march  at  once  before  the  birds  of  the  air  could 
carry  the  alarm;  to  fall  upon  them;  to  annhilate; 
this  was  the  open  path  with  no  obstacle. 

"What  are  you  thinkin'  about,  Big  Foot,  you  look 
so  pleased?"  said  Billie. 

Big  Foot  stood  with  a  broad  grin  on  his  face,  and 
turning  to  one  of  the  men  said,  "I'm  thinkin'  about 
how  we  are  goin'  to  walk  right  up  to  them  Mexicans 
without  any  warnin'.  You  see  Captain  Jack  has 
caught  their  scouts!" 

But  the  enemy  was  not  surprised.  When  the  eager 
Texans  overtook  Captain  Hayes  and  his  little  band, 
they  found  one  very  crest-fallen  member,  enduring 
the  rough  jests  of  his  comrades  with  what  grace  he 


86  The  Boy  Captive 

might,  but  with  the  good  humored  stoicism  of  one 
whose  valor  being  proven  can  afford  to  ignore  a  mis 
hap  that  might  happen  to  the  wisest. 

' '  What  is  it  ?  What  are  they  laughing  about  ?  Jeff, 
have  they  found  out?"  asked  John  eagerly. 

Why  it  seems  that  John  Alsbury  had  one  of  the 
Mexicans  to  guard  last  night.  He  was  one  of  the  men 
that  helped  fix  the  bridge,  and  he  was  just  worn  out ; 
so  he  concluded  that  when  the  Mexicans  fell  asleep 
he  might  as  well  take  a  little  nap  himself ;  so  to  make 
sure  of  his  prisoner,  he  just  made  a  pillow  of  him! 
I  suppose  he  thought  he  would  wake  right  up  if  the 
Mexican  stirred.  But  I  reckon  the  Mexican  was 
shamming,  for  when  daylight  came,  he  found  his 
Mexican  had  turned  into  a  saddle!" 

"Turned  into  a  saddle?"  repeated  John. 

"Yes!  The  doggoned  fellow  had  actually  fixed 
him  up  comfortably  with  a  saddle  for  a  pillow;  I 
reckon  if  he  had  had  a  blanket,  he  'd  a  tucked  him  up 
and  kissed  him  good-night." 

When  the  full  humor  of  the  affair  dawned  upon  the 
boys,  they  gave  away  to  shouts  of  laughter. 

"He  certainly  had  a  kind  heart,"  said  Orlando,  as 
he  recovered  from  his  wild  joy.  "Such  consideration 
for  an  enemy's  comfort.  I  reckon  he  would  apologize 
to  you  before  cutting  your  throat." 

"Yes."  said  John,  hilariously,  "he  would  say 
'Pardon,  senor,  it  is  painful,  but  necessary.  One 
little  moment,  and  you'll  feel  no  discomfort."  A 


The  Boy  Captive  87 


fresh  burst  of  joy  greeted  this  sally  of  John's,  but  his 
father  smiled  and  shook  his  head  as  he  cast  glances  at 
General  Sommervelle. 

"Captain  Jack  feels  mighty  sore  over  this  busi 
ness,"  said  Big  Foot,  "for  his  sweetheart  is  a  sister 
to  John  Twohig's  wife,  and  he  is  going  to  have 
mighty  hard  work  explaining  to  those  two  women 
why  he  let  the  Mexican  walk  poor  John  off  that-a- 
way.  They  think  that  Jack  could  whip  the  whole 
Mexican  army  with  his  little  hand  full  of  scouts." 

Noisy,  argumentative  voices  arose  from  a  group  of 
Brazoria  men.  John  caught  fragments  of  the  con 
versation  as  he  sat  Turk  fashion  on  the  ground.  He 
recognized  one  of  the  speakers  as  Captain  Ewen  Cam 
eron,  a  leader  among  men.  A  tall,  fine  looking  man 
with  a  physique  in  keeping  with  his  great  strength 
and  endurance,  he  was  a  native  Scotchman,  of  an 
ancient  Highland  clan;  and  he  had  all  the  courage 
of  his  ancestry. 

"I  went  clear  down  to  Burleson's  house,"  said 

Cameron.  "He  was  more  than  willing But  the 

President  said  no " 

"I  have  no  grudge  against  the  General,"  said  the 
Irishman,  "but  I'm  hearing  it  everywhere  that  Bur- 
leson's  the  man  for  the  hour."  This  speaker  was 
Thomas  Murry,  who  was  in  Cameron's  company. 

"Well,  I  have,"  said  the  first  speaker,  General 
Thomas  Jefferson  Green,  "I  have  a  contempt  for  a 
man  who  is  willing  to  head  an  expedition  that  plainly 


The  Boy  Captive 


declared  they  wanted  another  man." 

"  Zommerbill  is  a  goot  man,  poot  he  iss  more  beaze- 
f ul  as  Purleson, ' '  said  a  German  who  had  been  listen 
ing,  while  he  skillfully  abstracted  a  coal  from  the  fire, 
spat  on  it,  quickly  picked  it  up  and  dexterously 
dropped  it  into  the  bowl  of  his  pipe. 

They  were  camped  for  dinner  when  Billie  saw 
Flaco  looking  at  the  various  groups  of  eaters  with  a 
strange  expression  on  his  face.  He  sauntered  up  to 
Flaco  with  a  friendly  manner  and  said,  "Why  ain't 
you  eating  dinner,  Flaco?  Come  mess  with  me." 

"White  warrior  eat  too  much.  Move  slow.  Injun 
chief  no  eat  on  war  path.  Catch  Mexican  first,  scalp 
him  then  make  feast!  Dance." 

Billie  hastened  to  repeat  this  biting  criticism  to  the 
group  of  Rangers  who  were  resting  after  a  hearty 
meal.  A  rather  feeble  laugh  greeted  his  excellent 
imitation  of  the  Indian  chief,  but  a  thin  lipped  young 
man  with  sandy  hair,  rose  up  from  the  ground  and 
fixing  Billie  with  his  steely  blue  eyes  said : 

"Young  man,  you  give  Flaco  my  compliments  and 
ask  him  if  he  was  talking  about  the  time  the  white 
warriors  fought  Comanches  at  Plum  Creek.  He  seems 
to  be  quite  willing  to  be  on  our  side  of  the  fight." 
A  roar  of  joy  followed  this  speech  for  each  man  felt 
his  honor  fully  vindicated.  The  Comanches  were  the 
deadly  foes  of  the  Lipan  tribe  and  were  the  most 
powerful  and  warlike  savages  in  the  Southwest.  It 
was  at  Plum  Creek  that  the  settlers  in  1840  met  a 


The  Boy  Captive  89 

band  of  five  hundred  Comanches  and  fought  them  all 
the  way  to  where  the  town  of  Lockhart  now  stands. 
It  was  a  great  victory  for  the  white  men  for  it  gave 
the  Indians  a  thorough  respect  for  their  courage  and 
ability  as  warriors  and  made  them  cautious  in  ventur 
ing  near  the  settlements."  The  speaker  was  Captain 
Ben  McCulloch,  a  famous  Indian  fighter  and  in  the 
Civil  war  an  able  Confederate  leader. 


AT 
LAREDO 


CHAPTER  V. 


AT   LAREDO. 

THE  sixty  miles  to  Laredo  were  traveled  as  rap 
idly  as  the  eager  Texans  could  move,  stop 
ping  only  for  food.    Day  and  night  alike,  were  spent 
in  the  chase  after  the  Mexican  soldiers. 

Just  before  daylight,  the  Texans  entered  Laredo, 


feeling  sure  of  getting  into  a  fight.  To  their  great 
surprise,  not  a  soldier  was  to  be  seen,  the  escaping 
scout  having  reached  there  in  time  to  warn  the  sol 
diers.  But  the  good  citizens  of  Laredo,  ever  tactful, 
and  living  up  to  the  highest  standard  of  Latin  diplo 
macy,  did  not  meet  the  incoming  Texan  soldiers  as 
enemies,  but  in  terms  of  the  greatest  courtesy  and  re 
spect  they  were  greeted  with  words  of  good  fellowship 
and  good  will ;  in  their  own  graceful  language,  they  said 


92  The  Boy  Captive 

buenos  dias,  senares  caballeros;  nos  gustan  mucho,  los 
Americanos.  Bienvenidos,  estranjeros!  Bienvenidos! 
(Good  day,  gentlemen;  we  like  the  Americans  very 
much;  welcome,  strangers!  Welcome!)  This  was 
only  maddening  to  the  Texans,  who  could  ill  conceal 
their  chagrin  at  having  missed  the  Mexican  soldiers, 
and  thus  visit  a  just  retribution  upon  the  whole 
nation. 

The  Texans  passed  through  the  town  and  camped 
about  one  mile  above,  but  were  without  food,  and 
there  were  few  blankets  among  them;  and  the  nights 
were  cold.  They  insisted  upon  General  Sommer- 
velle's  crossing  the  Rio  Grande  and  making  a  fight, 
but  he  would  not  yield  to  their  wishes.  The  next  day, 
the  camp  was  changed  to  one  three  miles  from  the 
town.  The  men  were  also  angry  because  General 
Sommervelle  did  not  demand  as  many  supplies  as 
they  thought  they  ought  to  have,  and  so,  without  cere 
mony,  on  the  second  morning  of  their  stay  a  large 
number  of  the  men  went  into  the  stores  and  de 
manded  and  obtained  large  supplies  of  all  they 
wanted.  But  the  next  day  General  Sommervelle 
sent  them  all  back  to  their  respective  owners.  The 
act  was  considered  a  reflection  upon  the  honor  of  the 
Texas  soldiers.  The  officers  held  a  council,  and  al 
most  all  voted  to  cross  the  river,  overtake  the  Mexi 
cans,  whip  them  and  then  recross  in  safety. 
but  the  men  insisted  that  he  should  go  to  Guerrero, 
two  days'  travel  from  Laredo,  by  horse  and  on  the 


The  Boy  Captive  93 

14th  day  of  December  they  bent  their  steps  south 
ward  till  they  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the  Salado 
near  Carrizo  village,  just  across  the  river  from 
Guerrero.  They  found  some  flat  boats  and  in  these 
they  crossed  in  the  town.  The  Alcalde  (magistrate  of 
the  town  and  a  Frenchman  who  could  speak  English) 
came  to  the  camp  of  the  Texans.  He  at  once  tendered 
the  surrender  of  the  town,  but  insisted  the  Texans 
should  camp  beyond  the  town  limits,  and  he  would 
furnish  the  troops  with  food  and  clothing.  General 
Sommervelle  agreed  to  this  plan,  but  the  weather  grew 
cold  and  a  drizzling  rain  set  in  and  the  few  clothes, 
blankets  and  food  sent  by  the  Alcalde  were  far  from 
sufficient  to  make  the  men  comfortable.  Everybody 
was  mad  and  indignant,  and  they  were  especially  re 
sentful  toward  General  Sommervelle,  thinking  he  was 
too  easy  on  the  Alcalde. 

On  the  morning  of  December  19th,  General  Som 
mervelle  made  up  his  mind  to  return  to  Texas  and 
bring  the  whole  command  along  if  they  would  come. 

Accordingly  350  men  obeyed  the  command  of  the 
legalized  officer  and  availed  themselves  of  the  chance 
to  return  to  their  homes;  General  Sommervelle  lead 
ing  the  way.  On  this  day  1842  begins  what  is  in 
history  known  as  the  "Meir  Expedition  of  Texas, 
the  three  hundred  men  who  declined  to  return 
home,  re-organized  and  re-formed  into  companies 
under  command  respectively  of  Captain  Ewen  Cam 
eron,  Wm.  H.  Eastland,  I.  G.  W.  Pearson,  Wm.  N. 

6 


94  The  Boy  Captive 


Ryan,  Claudies  Berster,  John  R.  Baker,  and  Charles 
K.  Reese,  with  Captain  Wm.  R.  Fisher  as  colonel, 
who  was  familiar  with  the  language,  customs  and 
habits  of  the  Mexican  general,  an  ally  of  General 
Canales,  of  the  Federal  Mexican  war,  and  Colonel 
Thomas  Jefferson  Green  as  second  officer  and  in  com 
mand  of  the  boats  in  which  they  were  to  embark  from 
Guerrero. 

While  the  men  were  earnestly  discussing  the  situ 
ation  as  to  pushing  ahead  to  seek  revenge  upon  the 
Mexicans,  Mr.  Hill  cast  longing  glances  at  his  young 
est  son.  Finally  he  said: 

"John,  you  had  better  be  careful  how  you  talk 
to  the  other  boys  about  going  with  our  new  command- 
It  might  become  a  matter  of  life  or  death,  and  you 
don't  want  to  be  the  innocent  means  of  bringing  sor 
row  to  their  people." 

John  obeyed;  he  did  not  wish  any  such  awful 
responsibility  to  be  laid  at  his  door  by  an  accusing 
conscience.  He  felt  a  chill  of  dismay  steal  over  him, 
and  he  followed  his  father  about,  without  his  usual 
happy  smile  or  the  cheerful  greeting  that  endeared 
him  to  his  comrades.  But  his  anxiety  was  soon  re 
lieved  by  his  beloved  chums  making  their  appearance 
at  the  camp  fire  with  all  the  gayety  and  assurance 
of  Dumas'  three  heroes.  The  six  brave  little  boys 
went  forward  with  the  new  organization! 

"The  navy,"  as  General  Green  called  it,  was  duly 
organized  on  December  20th,  and  all  who  were  not 


The  Boy  Captive  95 

ordered  to  go  by  land  and  take  charge  of  the  horses, 
embarked  on  the  boats. 

The  boys  found  it  wildly  exciting,  for  of  course, 
they  were  a  part  of  the  marines.  General  Green  was 
the  commander  of  the  fleet  and  Samuel  Lyon,  a 
former  sailor,  was  made  sailing  master,  a  title  that 
probably  carried  more  honor  than  responsibility.  Dr. 
Brenham  was  appointed  marine  surgeon  and  Colonel 
Bonnel,  lieutenant,  and  each  of  the  boats  had  its  com 
mander;  so  "the  navy"  was  well  organized,  consider 
ing  the  simplicity  of  its  purpose,  which  was  to  carry 
the  troops  more  speedily  down  the  river;  secondly,  to 
give  them  an  opportunity  to  destroy  the  boats  of  the 
Mexicans,  so  that  the  pursuit  by  water  was  impossi 
ble,  and  as  the  Rio  Grande  was  in  no  place  fordable, 
they  could  in  future  engagements,  if  pressed,  retreat 
to  their  boats,  gain  the  Texas  side  of  the  river,  and  be 
safe  from  the  enemy. 

And  now,  while  the  navy  is  floating  down  the  river, 
let  us  try  to  understand  the  reasons  for  their  course. 
It  is  not  possible,  however,  to  explain  the  motives  of 
each  and  every  man  in  the  expedition,  but  we  can 
give  the  general  reasons  which  their  leaders  have 
given. 

It  was  the  desire  of  the  Texans  to  avenge  the  first 
Mexican  raid  of  the  previous  March;  but  the  Texan 
Congress  was  fearful  of  making  any  move  that  would 
seem  a  declaration  of  war  with  Mexico,  as  Texas  was 
in  no  financial  condition  to  raise  and  maintain  an 


96  The  Boy  Captive 


army.  Not  until  September  were  any  decisive  steps 
taken,  and  then  the  utmost  caution  was  used,  as  nom 
inally,  at  least,  peace  was  supposed  to  exist  between 
the  two  countries. 

The  men  who  organized  under  Fisher  believed  that 
they  had  been  sent  to  keep  the  Mexicans  from  making 
any  more  incursions  into  the  territory  of  the  Texas 
Republic.  They  believed  they  were  to  give  battle  to 
any  force  they  chanced  to  meet.  They  believed  they 
were  expected  to  levy  on  the  towns  or  villages  for 
needed  supplies,  as  was  the  rule  in  military  warfare, 
and  in  this  belief  they  were  confirmed,  because  they 
had  been  furnished  barely  sufficient  rations  to  last 
them  to  the  border;  and  in  case  these  supplies  were 
refused  they  could  forage  for  themselves,  or  inflict 
such  punishment  on  the  place  as  their  leader  saw 
proper. 

They  did  not  believe  that  President  Houston  had 
forbidden  Sommervelle  to  cross  the  border  to  fight. 
They  attributed  his  failure  to  exact  supplies  to  a 
want  of  courage-  To  this  same  reason  they  attrib 
uted  their  forced  march  through  the  chaparral. 
When  he  disbanded  them,  they  felt  themselves  within 
their  rights  to  elect  a  leader,  according  to  the  law 
made  by  the  Texas  Congress  in  January,  1840,  which 
General  Green  quotes  in  support  of  their  action. 
They  believed  that  their  government  had  sent  them 
on  this  expedition  for  good  reasons  and  they  did  not 
see  any  change  in  the  reason,  although  they  had 


The  Boy  Captive  97 

changed  their  leaders.  The  purpose  for  which  they 
had  been  sent  remained  unaccomplished  and  if  Gen 
eral  Sommervelle  felt  inadequate  to  the  task  set  be 
fore  him,  that  was  no  reason  why  they  should  aban 
don  it,  since  there  were  others  who  felt  willing  to 
undertake  it  and  confident  of  success. 

The  boys  found  it  very  exciting,  for  the  General 
had  arranged  for  them  to  participate  in  the  naval 
maneuvers.  These  consisted  in  burning  the  boats 
they  found,  and  in  levying  on  the  small  villages  for 
provisions. 

The  boys  felt  that  war  was  glorious,  but  rather 
easy.  A  few  frightened  villagers  fleeing  to  the  chap 
arral  and  hiding  among  the  sand  hills  leaving  their 
poor  little  possessions  to  the  mercy  of  the  invaders. 

The  days  were  cheerful  once  more,  for  their  stom 
achs  were  full,  but  the  nights  were  cold  and  blankets 
scarce.  The  saddle  and  the  chaparral  had  worn  thin 
and  made  grievous  rents  in  the  apparel  of  the  men, 
so  all  were  glad  when  they  reached  the  town  of  Mier, 
six  miles  from  the  Rio  Grande,  the  first  place  of  any 
size  since  they  left  Guerrero. 

On  the  22nd  day  of  December,  leaving  their  horses 
on  the  Texas  side  with  a  guard,  for  of  course  they 
must  always  be  on  the  alert  for  the  Indians,  they 
moored  their  flat-boats  to  the  west  bank,  detailed  a 
guard  to  watch  them  and  marched  into  the  town  of 
Mier,  demanding  surrender. 


98  The  Boy  Captive 

The  Alcalde  and  the  principal  men  of  the  town  con 
ferred  with  Colonel  Fisher  and  General  Green  and 
readily  agreed  to  supply  them  with  everything  need 
ed.  They  supposed  this  troop  to  be  a  small  detach 
ment  from  a  larger  force  secreted  on  the  other  side. 

*An  Alcalde,  in  our  country  is  simply  a  magistrate 
and  his  office  is  administered  in  a  modest,  unpreten 
tious  manner.  But  in  Mexico,  he  becomes  a  man  of 
more  importance  in  the  administration  of  his  office. 
The  insignia  of  this  functionary  is  a  cane  with  either 
a  gold  or  silver  head,  to  which  is  appended  a  big 
bunch  of  silk  tassels.  The  Alcalde  cannot  preside, 
nor  are  the  people  expected  to  obey  him,  without  the 
insignia  of  his  office  in  his  hand. 

With  his  cane,  he  is  an  Alcalde,  without  it  he  be 
comes  a  private  citizen.  Seldom  are  oaths  adminis 
tered,  but  when  they  are,  the  Alcalde  lays  his  fore 
finger  with  his  thumb  over  the  head  of  the  cane. ' ' 

So  keen  had  been  the  disappointment  for  the  men 
when  at  Guerrero,  the  supplies  had  proven  so  inade 
quate  to  the  demand,  Colonel  Fisher  determined  to 
protect  them  by  taking  precaution  against  a  breach 
of  faith  on  the  part  of  the  Mexicans. 

Night  was  drawing  near  and  although  the  order 
was  being  rapidly  filled,  some  delay  in  getting  trans 
portation  for  so  large  a  quantity  of  goods  was  inevit- 


*  Oilliam's  Travels  in  Mexico,  pase  265. 


=• 


The  Boy  Captive  101 


able.  The  Colonel  ordered  the  men  to  return  to  their 
camp. 

To  John's  surprise  he  saw  a  Mexican  gentleman  in 
the  rich  and  picturesque  costume  of  the  hacendado, 
mounted  on  a  horse,  which  was  all  gaily  decked  out, 
while  by  his  side  strode  General  Green  and  a  strong 
escort  of  men.  As  the  General  marched  by  with  his 
distinguished  prisoner,  Billie  Reese  was  regarding 
him  attentively  and  thought  he  saw  him  wink. 

It  had  been  a  topic  of  much  discussion  as  to  what 
should  be  done  with  the  next  Alcalde  in  order  to 
secure  supplies.  Each  boy  would  give  his  ideas  on 
the  subject  artfully  led  on  by  General  Green,  while 
the  officers  would  sit  and  listen  with  much  amuse 
ment  at  the  blood-thirsty  plans  of  the  "fire-eaters," 
as  the  boys  were  called. 

So  many  of  the  men  having  returned  to  their 
homes,  the  boys  from  the  different  companies  natu 
rally  saw  more  of  each  other.  One  boy  named  Chris 
Yocum  from  Liberty  county,  was  much  liked  by  all, 
as  he  was  a  nice,  manly  little  fellow,  though  only 
fourteen.  He  and  another  boy  named  Gilbert  Brush 
were  active  members  of  these  fierce  councils  of  war, 
and  General  Green  used  to  laughingly  say  to  his 
brother  officers,  that  if  he  had  a  regiment  composed 
of  boys  like  them,  he  believed  he  could  make  a  new 
conquest  of  Mexico.  Each  of  these  boys  was  a  fine 
shot,  and  as  for  riding,  the  world  can  show  no  better 
rider  than  the  Texan.  Indian  raids,  and  fights  with 


102  The  Boy  Captive 

Mexicans  were  the  daily  topics  of  their  lives.  So 
their  plans  lacked  nothing  in  variety  of  daring;  but 
after  each  had  launched  his  scheme  on  the  stream  of 
public  opinion,  and  perhaps  run  foul  of  some  rock, 
then  John,  who  was  always  regardful  of  others, 
would  say  politely,  "Now  what  would  you  do,  Gen 
eral?"  And  the  General  would  always  reply,  "Wait 
and  see ! " 

Although  the  sight  of  the  distinguished  hostage 
was  reassuring  as  to  the  supplies,  it  failed  to  make 
the  men  as  gay  as  usual.  The  six  miles  that  lay  be 
tween  them  and  their  boats  were  not  pleasant  walk 
ing.  Their  shoes  were  full  of  holes  and  the  sand  and 
rough  gravel  cut  their  tender  feet,  for  they  were  used 
to  riding  and  had  had  little  experience  of  long 
marches.  The  sun  had  ceased  to  shine,  the  sky  was 
gloomy  and  leaden  in  hue,  for  another  storm  was 
gathering.  The  ugly  clumps  of  thorny  underbrush 
seemed  more  unsightly,  since  their  glimpse  of  the 
pretty  little  town  they  had  just  left,  and  no  doubt 
many  of  them  felt  twinges  of  homesickness. 

The  little  band  trudged  on  through  the  sullen  twi 
light  in  depressing  quiet.  John's  eyes  rested  on 
Yocum's  back,  for  the  boys  as  usual  managed  to  keep 
together.  His  mind  turned  to  his  home.  It  was  the 
time  they  usually  had  supper.  He  wondered  if  his 
mother  missed  him  at  the  table.  He  knew  just  where 
each  one  would  sit!  His  mind  revelled  in  the  feast 
his  fancy  depicted.  He  could  see  Mammy  Lou's 


The  Boy  Captive  103 


kindly  black  face  as  she  buttered  the  hot  cornbread 
for  his  little  sister,  or  served  a  fresh  relay  of  fried 
chicken.  Oh,  for  one  good  drink  of  that  buttermilk 
with  little  flecks  of  gold  on  its  foamy  surface!  He 
was  sure  they  had  fresh  pork  for  supper,  as  it  was 
time  to  kill  the  hogs.  "Nearly  Christmas!  Yes, 
surely  they  must  have  killed  the  hogs,  and  that  meant 

sausages,  spare  ribs ."     A  shot  rang  out  on  the 

air  at  the  same  instant  Yocum  threw  his  arms  up,  and 
fell  prone  on  the  gravel.  So  sudden  was  it,  that  poor 
John,  who  was  just  behind  his  young  companion, 
stared  dazed  at  the  prostrate  figure.  Exclamations 
ran  through  the  straggling  lines  and  each  man 
brought  his  rifle  into  readiness  while  they  halted  in 
obedience  to  command.  It  was  too  dark  to  see  more 
than  the  shadowy  silence.  Even  the  men  near  Yocum 
did  not  know  who  shot  him.  Then  an  unhappy  man 
in  front  of  him  said  the  branch  of  a  tree  had  struck 
against  his  rifle  and  so  discharged  it.  Soon  the  sad 
news  drifted  through  the  lines.  It  was  not  an  ambus 
cade  as  they  had  feared,  but  all  felt  sorrow  not  only 
for  the  loss  of  this  brave  little  comrade,  but  for  the 
unfortunate  man  who  had  been  the  instrument  of  his 
death-  What  words  of  comfort  could  they  give  him  ? 
John's  happy  dream  was  over.  Tired,  but  no 
longer  conscious  of  either  hunger  or  fatigue,  he 
moved  on  to  the  boats  with  the  Test  of  the  command. 
The  water  lapped  on  the  beach  with  that  musical 
sound  so  pleasing  to  the  ear.  He  heard  the  noise  of 


104  The  Boy  Captive 

the  men's  feet  as  they  tramped  into  the  boats,  the 
heavy  knock  of  their  guns  as  the  stocks  struck  the 
bottom  of  the  boats.  No  one  whistled,  no  one  sang, 
no  one  laughed,  no  one  carelessly  cursed  in  that  free, 
unconscious  way  of  the  soldier.  All  were  thinking  of 
the  limp,  young  figure  borne  between  four  of  the  men. 
Death  in  battle  was  a  thing  to  be  met  with  a  laugh. 
But  death  slipping  in,  in  this  stealthy  fashion  and 
seizing  so  young  a  victim,  was  horrible. 

The  men  cooked  their  scanty  suppers  and  soon 
were  joking  freely  about  the  Alcalde  and  the  supplies. 
The  hopeless  Don  Juan  sat  on  the  ground  in  his  gor 
geous  raiment  and  his  dark  eyes  roamed  restlessly 
over  the  scene  before  him.  The  ragged,  unkempt  men 
stalked  in  and  out  the  firelight,  fierce  and  wild 
looking  with  their  long  hair,  their  unshaven  faces  and 
their  grotesque  costumes.  Hardly  would  mothers  or 
wives  have  known  them  as  they  squatted  in  front  of 
the  fire  and  broiled  the  meat  on  the  coals. 

Fitful  gusts  of  a  cold  northwest  wind  swept  down 
over  the  sand  hills  laden  with  dust  and  grit,  beating 
the  fire  flat,  filling  the  men's  eyes  with  smoke  and 
covering  their  meat  with  ashes;  now  fanning  the 
flames  to  fierce  pillars  of  light  that  illumined  the 
mounds  of  sand,  the  sharp  rocks  thrusting  their  ribs 
through  the  thin  coating  of  earth,  the  scraggy  clumps 
of  cacti  and  dwarf  mesquite,  only  for  a  moment,  then 
all  was  obscurity  and  the  wind  passed  on  softly  over 
the  open  space  where  the  men  were  digging  the  grave 


The  Boy  Captive  105 

for  their  boy  comrade.  John  sat  silently  in  the  back 
ground  of  the  little  knot  of  men  which  composed  his 
particular  company.  His  father  stole  anxious,  kindly 
glances  at  the  set  little  face,  which,  pillowed  on  its 
hand,  gazed  with  somber  eyes  off  into  the  darkness. 

Harvey  and  Billie  called  him  to  come  and  see  how 
General  Green  was  taking  care  of  the  Alcalde-  They 
went  on  without  him,  however,  and  Orlando  slipping 
out  of  the  shadows  threw  an  affectionate  arm  over 
John's  shoulder.  Although  held  as  a  prisoner,  the 
sympathetic  instincts  of  the  Mexican  character  were 
strong  in  the  Alcalde.  Looking  at  the  body  of  the 
dead  boy,  he  exclaimed  with  a  mist  in  his  eyes, 
"Pobre  muchachito,  tan  inocente,  lejos  de  sus  padres 
y  su  hogar,  querido."  (Poor  little  boy,  so  innocent, 
so  far  away  from  his  father  and  mother  and  his  be 
loved  home.) 

Later  on  the  men  lined  up  around  the  open  grave. 
The  burial  service  of  the  Episcopal  church  was  read 
by  the  Rev.  Edward  B.  Fontaine,  with  heads  uncov 
ered,  they  watched  the  lowering  of  the  body  wrapped 
in  a  blanket.  "When  the  last  clod  was  thrown  in  place, 
each  man  placed  a  rock  on  the  grave ;  this  was  to  pre 
vent  the  coyotes  from  desecrating  the  body.  They  did 
not  fire  a  salute  for  ammunition  was  too  scarce  and 
precious  in  a  hostile  country  to  be  used  in  empty  cere 
monial. 

Soon  the  camp  was  asleep  save  for  sentinels  who 
made  their  lonely  rounds,  now  facing  the  keen  wind 


106  The  Boy  Captive 

which  blew  with  steady  fury,  now  stumbling  over  the 
loose  stones  and  cursing  softly,  or  halting  in  the  shel 
ter  of  a  thick  clump  of  bushes,  and  pausing  to  rest 
and  think. 

The  horses,  having  eaten  their  corn,  stood  with 
drooping  heads  backed  to  the  storm.  Occasionally 
some  vicious  broncho  would  snap  his  teeth  at  a  com 
panion,  whereupon  a  temporary  confusion  of  squeals 
and  stamping  hoofs  would  ensue  then  all  would  re 
lapse  into  black  shadows  again. 

From  far  off,  among  the  sand  hills,  the  coyotes 
raised  their  discordant  miserere,  and  from  the  chapar 
ral  close  by,  the  owls  answered  in  demoniac  glee. 
Poor  Don  Juan  lay  in  sullen  misery,  one  leg  held  as 
in  a  vise,  between  the  two  stalwart  sinewy  pillars 
of  the  redoubtable  "Commodore  Verde"  as  the  Al 
calde  called  General  Green,  seized  an  unwilling  host 
age,  yet  he  had  pictured  only  a  little  tedious  waiting 
in  the  comforts  of  an  elegantly  appointed  tent  be 
tween  the  ideal  and  the  real.  There  was  a  wide  dif 
ference  between  the  appointments  of  a  Texan  "Com- 
mandante"  and  those  of  the  Mexicans.  Sleep  did 
not  cast  her  balm  on  his  hurt  mind,  nor  warm  his 
chilled  and  stiffening  limb. 

Only  a  little  way  from  him  lay  his  young  Texan 
namesake,  sleepless)  too,  although  sheltered  under  the 
blankets  between  his  big  brother  and  his  loving 
father. 


The  Boy  Captive  107 

Over  in  Mier,  a  dark-eyed  senora  was  weeping 
before  the  shrine  of  her  apartment,  praying  for  the 
release  of  her  husband  from  the  American  bandits. 

Hundreds  of  miles  away,  in  the  farm  house  on  the 
Colorado,  a  white-robed  figure  was  kneeling,  and  im 
ploring  that  her  dear  ones  be  saved  from  all  harm 
and  be  restored  to  their  homes- 

The  morning  of  the  24th  was  as  dreary  as  the  pre 
ceding  evening.  The  wind  was  cold  and  piercing, 
and  the  little  heap  of  rocks  that  marked  the  grave  of 
Yocum  gave  a  touch  of  sadness  in  a  landscape  already 
replete  with  mournful  suggestions.  John,  Orlando 
and  Harvey  were  backed  against  the  north  side  of  a 
little  gully,  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  the  wind,  and 
were  watching  the  direction  in  which  they  expected 
to  see  the  supplies  from  Mier. 

"I  think  it  will  be  hard  to  cheer  the  Alcalde.  I 
saw  him  and  the  Colonel  eating  dinner  together," 
said  Harvey  with  a  giggle,  "and  he  looked  mighty 
sick  and  low-spirited,  but  General  Green,  he  was 
strutting  around  and  spouting  poetry,  something 
Lord  Byron  wrote,  and  Dr.  Sinnickson  was  laughing 
so  he  could  not  eat  and  Colonel  Fisher  looked  like  he 
would  burst  a  blood  vessel  trying  to  keep  in." 

The  men  needed  all  the  cheerful  nonsense  to  keep 
up  their  spirits,  for,  although  they  moved  their  camp 
down  the  river  to  Los  Arrieros,  the  looked-for  sup 
plies  failed  to  make  their  appearance.  I^oor  Don 
Juan  suffered  more  keenly  than  they,  for  while  all 


108  The  Boy  Captive 

felt  the  pangs  of  hunger  and  the  discomfort  of  insuffi 
cient  warmth,  still  they  had  companionship  and  free 
dom,  while  he  was  held  captive  by  a  set  of  men 
whom  he  regarded  as  outlaws  or  highwaymen. 

Christmas  eve  saw  the  poor  Alcalde  once  more  the 
unwilling  bed  fellow  of  the  robust  general.  Few  of 
the  men  could  sleep.  The  situation  was  serious. 

When  General  Sommervelle  left  the  three  hundred 
Texans  at  Guerrero,  Captain  Jack  Hayes,  Ben  and 
Henry  McCulloch,  Tom  Green,  C.  C.  Cady,  Ephriam 
McLean  and  a  few  others  declined  to  return  with 
Sommervelle,  but  they  also  would  not  unite  with  the 
new  organization  under  Fisher.  Still  they  were 
deeply  interested  in  the  outcome  of  the  new  command 
and  being  the  best  scouts  they  remained  until  the  first 
entrance  of  the  Texans  into  Mier,  and  were  among 
the  first  to  enter  the  town.  But  wise  men  and  scouts 
as  they  were,  experienced  rangers  with  a  record  of 
long  service,  they  wisely  withdrew  on  hearing  that 
General  Ampudia,  Brigadier  and  General  in  com 
mand  of  the  northern  division  of  the  Mexican  Army, 
with  an  overwhelming  force,  was  coming  to  meet  the 
Texans,  and  would  prove  dangerous  to  the  smaller 
force  under  Colonel  Fisher. 

When  the  Texans  returned  to  their  camp,  these 
scouts  had  remained  on  the  other  side  to  watch  the 
movements  of  the  Mexican  troops  in  the  vicinity  of 
Mier.  It  was  an  anxious  time,  for  the  scouts  had  not 
been  heard  from,  and  fears  were  entertained  of  their 


The  Boy  Captive  109 

capture.  Soon  after  this,  Jack  Hayes  and  the  other 
scouts  named,  returned  to  Texas. 

Early  on  Christmas  Eve  morning,  however,  two  of 
the  scouts  brought  in  a  Mexican,  and  from  him  they 
learned  that  two  Mexican  Generals,  Ampudia  and 
Canales,  were  down  near  the  river,  about  two  miles 
with  seven  hundred  men  and  two  cannon. 

Excitement  ran  high,  and  all  were  unanimous  in 
wishing  to  cross  at  once  to  fight.  At  two  o'clock  on 
the  afternoon  of  Christmas  Eve  day.  The  rest  of  the 
command  were  crossing  the  Rio  Grande,  save  those 
who  were  toled  off  much  against  their  will,  to  remain 
with  and  guard  the  horses.  At  four  o'clock,  all  the 
companies  were  on  the  west  bank,  ready  to  begin 
the  tramp  across  the  sterile  waste  that  lies  be 
tween  the  plains  of  the  Rio  Grande  and  Alamo  rivers. 
It  was  very  unpleasant  weather,  for  although  the 
wind  had  died  down,  a  mild,  drizzling  rain  had  set  in, 
and  the  feet  of  the  men  were  poorly  shod  for  the  road 
that  lay  before  them. 

But  wet  clothing  and  tender  feet  were  forgotten 
when,  a  little  later,  McMullen  met  them  with  the  news 
that  Baker  and  his  scouts  had  had  an  encouter  with 
the  Mexicans  and  that  they  had  almost  caught  Sam 
Walker  as  he  was  climbing  a  fence — they  caught  his 
boots  and  he  had,  by  a  quick  movement,  left  them  in 
their  hands.  Baker  wanted  re-inforcements  at  the 
lower  ford.  With  all  speed  they  hastened  to  the  as 
sistance  of  their  comrades,  but  when  the  Mexicans 

7 


110  The  Boy  Captive 

saw  the  new  division,  they  ceased  fighting  and  moved 
into  the  city. 

It  was  seven  o'clock  and  very  dark.  The  Texans 
were  now  occupying  Mexican  territory  on  the  high 
bluff  of  the  Alamo  river.  Colonel  Fisher  thought  it 
best  to  try  to  cross  the  river  between  the  two  regular 
fording  places,  and  in  doing  this  they  ran  more  dang 
er  than  they  thought.  El  Cantaro  ford  has  a  smooth, 
pebbly  bottom,  the  ground  sloping  gently  toward  it 
on  either  side ;  but,  both  above  and  below  the  ford,  the 
bed  of  the  river  had  many  jagged  rocks,  and  holes 
seemingly  bottomless  and  full  of  water  even  in  a 
drought  when  the  river  bed  looks  like  a  stony  desert. 

Here  the  men  were  halted,  given  orders  to  rest, 
and  to  keep  the  guns  covered  so  that  their  loads 
would  not  be  damp,  while  Capt.  Reese  was  to  take  a 
man  and  attempt  to  find  out  whether  the  Mexicans 
had  placed  their  pickets. 

With  the  rain  beating  softly  in  his  face,  John  sat 
straining  his  eyes  at  the  darkness,  holding  his  rifle 
close  to  his  heart  trying  to  distinguish  objects  on  the 
opposite  bank;  but  there  was  neither  moon  nor  star, 
and  save  for  red  flashes  from  the  guns  of  the  pickets, 
it  might  have  been  deserted- 

Billie  had  been  silenced  by  the  fusillade  from  the 
opposite  side.  He  watched  anxiously  to  see  the  re 
turn  of  the  brother  whom  he  idolized.  Meanwhile 
the  news  crept  through  the  ranks  that  General  Green 


The  Boy  Captive  111 

had  heard  the  clanking  of  the  calavry  who  were  lying 
in  wait  at  the  ford. 

Colonel  Fisher  sent  Baker  and  his  spies  to  attract 
their  fire,  while  the  remainder  of  the  men  were  to 
climb  down  the  bluff  and  follow  the  streams,  until  they 
found  a  place  to  cross. 

"How  can  we  find  a  ford  in  this  darkness?"  asked 
John. 

"General  Green  has  turned  the  Alcalde  over  to 
Sailing-Master  Lyon.  I  reckon  he  had  had  his  in 
structions  what  to  do  in  case  Don  Juan  makes  any 
mistake  about  the  right  place." 

' '  Hush ! ' '  said  Billie.     ' '  Is  that  Charlie  ? ' ' 

"Something  has  happened.  There  goes  Dr.  Sin- 
nickson. ' ' 

Poor  Joe  Berry  had  fallen  down  one  of  the  steep 
gullies  in  the  bank  of  the  river  and  had  broken  his 
hip.  Seven  men  with  Dr.  Sinnickson  were  detailed 
to  get  him  out,  and  they  were  left  to  carry  the  poor 
fellow  into  an  old  deserted  adobe  house  standing  not 
very  far  from  the  river's  bank. 

Their  comrades  moved  on,  slipping  and  sliding 
down  the  treacherous  wet  clay  banks,  grasping  at 
bushes  to  save  themselves,  following  the  narrow  path 
along  the  water's  edge  till  they  came  to  a  place  where 
they  could  wade  the  swift  current.  The  water  was 
above  the  knees  of  the  men,  and  John  found  it  hard 
work  to  keep  his  footing,  and  hold  up  his  precious 
rifle  out  of  the  water. 


112  The  Boy  Captive 

The  noise  of  their  crossing  was  drowned  by  the 
rushing  of  the  water  over  its  rocky  bed-  A  lucky 
thing !  For  some  of  the  men  could  not  restrain  their 
tongues  when  they  slipped  on  the  uncertain  bottom 
and  raked  their  shins  against  the  sharp  edge  of  the 
rocks. 

At  last  all  was  over,  and  as  yet  they  were  not 
discovered. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


MIEB. 

THE  sleepy,  peaceful  little  town  bearing  this 
name  is  situated  about  six  miles  from  the 
Bio  Grande  river,  in  the  state  of  Tamauli- 
pas.  The  river  Alamo  makes  a  very  pretty  curve 
about  the  town,  passing  on  the  north  side  then  grace 
fully  flowing  southeast  into  the  Bio  Grande,  so  that 
the  town  has  the  river  for  its  northern  and  eastern 
boundary.  On  this  little  river  there  are  two  promin 
ent  and  well-known  fording  places,  and  these  are 
used  to  this  day,  just  as  they  were  at  the  time  of  our 
story.  The  banks  are  very  steep  and  rugged  in 
many  places,  but  constant  travel  at  these  crossings 
keeps  them  in  fairly  good  condition. 

The  Texans  crossed  at  the  north  ford  which  was 
called  then,  as  now,  El  Cantaro  (the  water  bottle). 
Like  everything  else  in  Mexico  even  this  name  is  sur 
rounded  by  a  halo  of  tradition.  The  most  credible  is : 
that  at  this  crossing,  there  once  grew  a  very  large  hui- 
sache  (wee-sache)  tree  and  on  the  limb  of  this  tree 
was  a  fungus  growth  of  remarkable  size  shaped  like  a 
cantaro  or  Mexican  water  bottle.  Another  reason 
has  been  given  for  the  name:  the  bottom  of  the 


116  The  Boy  Captive 

river  is  of  solid  rock  and  immense  holes  resembling 
contaros  are  in  the  bottom  of  the  stream.  Also  the 
town  of  Mier  itself  was  built  upon  a  limestone  hill  and 
there  are  places  dug  out  of  the  rock  resembling  a 
water  bottle. 

The  Texans  entered  the  town  and  secured  a  few 
supplies,  but  the  Alcalde  had  failed  to  give  them  as 
much  as  they  had  asked  for  and  so  without  ceremony 
they  took  him  prisoner.  It  was  when  they  were  ford 
ing  the  Alamo  river  that  one  of  the  Texans  asked  the 
Alcalde,  "What  is  this  place?" — he,  thinking  they 
meant  the  crossing  said:  "El  Cantaro,"  when  the 
Texans  thought  he  meant  the  name  of  the  river.  The 
answer  was  accepted  as  meaning  the  river,  and  to 
this  day  all  the  histories  in  which  this  expedition  is 
mentioned,  the  name  of  the  river  Alamo  is  called 
Alcantra  or  Alcantara,  when  no  such  name  ever 
existed. 

The  little  town  was  noted  for  the  blankets  which 
were  woven  there.  In  almost  every  house  might  be 
seen  the  primitive  loom  for  their  weaving.  There 
were  no  great  factories  with  tall  chimneys  vomiting 
soot  and  smoke  on  the  pure  air.  The  people  spun 
their  own  yarn,  manufactured  their  own  bright  dyes 
from  the  roots  or  bark  of  native  shrubs  and  herbs,  and 
the  different  processes  went  on  in  the  peaceful  en 
vironments  of  home.  Nor  were  they  so  pressed  for 
time  or  money  that  they  could  not  afford  to  sit  at  any 


The  Boy  Captive  117 


time  for  a  neighborly  visit,  or  take  a  long  siesta  after 
the  morning's  work. 

The  first  settlement  and  the  naming  of  the  pueblo 
of  Mier  occured  in  1753  when  in  honor  of  its  illus 
trious  namesake,  Senor  Don  Jose  Sernando  Tereza 
de  Mier  D.  D.  delegate  to  the  Spanish  Cortes  for  this 
section,  High  Mass  was  said  with  great  pomp  and 
ceremony  to  Nuestra  Senora  de  la  Immaculada  Con- 
cepsion  de  Mier;  little  did  these  people  dream  of  the 
glory  that  was  to  fall  on  this  obscure  little  town. 

The  following  entry  in  the  archives  of  the  town 
is  the  only  reference  that  was  ever  made  in  its  "blue 
books"  upon  the  Mier  Expedition.  Viz:  "In  1842 
a  battle  was  fought  between  the  Mexicans  and  Texans 
in  this  city  in  which  more  than  three  hundred  prison 
ers  were  taken,  and  where  we  saw  their  pride  hum 
bled  and  all  their  arms  laid  at  the  feet  of  our  brave 
soldiers.  The  Mexican  Army  fought  under  the  com 
mand  of  Brigadier  General  Don  Pedro  Ampudia  and 
Colonels  Don  Romalo  Diaz  de  la  Vega  and  Don  An 
tonio  Canales.  In  this  battle  three  officers  were 
killed :  Captain  Don  Miguel  Asnal  de  Ampudia,  first 
Lieutenant  Don  Manuel  Infantte  and  a  second  Lieu 
tenant  of  Reynosa  whose  name  was  unknown." 

THE    BATTLE. 

In  all  Mexican  cities  there  is  a  large  open  square 
or  park,  called  the  plaza,  around  which  the  public 
mercantile  buildings  are  faced,  and  also  where  the 
population  gather  at  night  or  on  festal  oc- 


118  The  Boy  Captive 

casions.  The  town  of  Mier  had  about  four  thousand 
citizens  at  the  date  of  this  story,  and  its  military 
plaza  was  the  center  of  the  city.  The  Alcalde's  office 
was  on  the  east  side  of  the  plaza,  and,  as  it  was  a 
military  station  the  government  warehouses  were  in 
close  proximity-  Across  the  plaza  on  the  west  were 
the  cathedral  and  the  residence  of  General  Garcia. 

To  prevent  the  Texans  from  reaching  the  plaza  and 
thus  gaining  access  to  the  government  supplies,  the 
Mexicans  placed  their  cannon  at  the  northeast  and 
southeast  corners  of  the  plaza,  thus  commanding  the 
two  streets  that  led  from  the  east.  But  the  Texans 
made  a  line  for  the  northeast  street,  thus  avoiding  the 
fire  of  the  cannon.  They  forced  an  entrance  into  the 
two  buildings  on  the  adjacent  sides  of  the  street. 

Once  inside  the  shelter  of  these  rock  walls,  it  was 
only  a  matter  of  strength  and  time  to  make  breaches 
in  the  partition  with  the  aid  of  some  crow-bars  which 
they  were  lucky  enough  to  find. 

The  cannon  kept  up  an  active  roar,  and,  as  the 
balls  struck  the  outer  walls  of  the  building,  loosened 
rock  and  mortar  would  fall  to  the  pavement  below. 
The  Texans  promptly  utilized  these  breaks  as  loop 
holes  from  which  to  rake  the  enemy  with  their  deadly 
rifle  fire.  Near  midnight,  the  last  dividing  wall  was 
breached,  and  John  found  himself  within  a  large 
building,  only  fifty  yards  from  the  cannon.  Captain 
Cameron  had  placed  his  men  in  the  courtyard,  and 
used  the  heavy  wall  as  a  protection  for  his  firing 


GLIMPSES    OF    MIER 

The  building-  on  the  extreme  left  was  used  as  Ampudia's 
headquarters.  The  old  church  with  the  tower  at  the  right  is 
the  building:  in  which  the  prisoners  were  confined.  The  siege 
of  Mier  occurred  on  Christmas  eve  and  continued  through 
Christmas  day,  the  surrender  taking-  place  at  early  twilight 
Christmas  day,  1842. 


The  Boy  Captive  121 


line,  while  on  the  left  side  Captain  Reese's 
and  Captain  Pearson's  companies  had  forced 
their  way,  so  that  they  held  the  building  on  the  ad 
jacent  corner.  The  best  riflemen  were  picked  and 
stationed  so  that  they  could  command  the  position  of 
the  artillery.  Faithful  to  his  promise,  General  Green 
gave  the  "fire-eaters"  a  place  upon  the  azotea  where 
better  protection  would  be  given  them. 

"Now  boys,"  said  he,  "that  battery  of  theirs  makes 
too  much  noise.  You  must  stop  it!  It  might  kill 
somebody  by  accident!"  (The  General  could  always 
joke.)  "Every  time  you  see  a  man  try  to  load  that 
cannon,  take  good  aim  and  hit  him  in  the  head. 
Don't  fire  at  the  same  time,  keep  cool,  and  don't  quit 
until  you  get  your  orders." 

The  boys  obeyed.  From  across  the  street  another 
division  was  firing.  John  felt  himself  in  a  dream. 
A  horrible  dream  it  was,  full  of  powder  stench  and 
flying  bullets  and  cannon  balls  and  groaning  men, 
and  over  all,  the  wild  shouts  of  the  Texans.  That  all 
was  motion  and  excitement  he  was  dimly  conscious, 
but  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  cannon  and  as  his 
turn  came,  he  steadily  took  aim  and  kept  his  record. 
He  winched  when  he  missed,  but  the  other  boy  was 
sure  to  hit.  One  hour  after  daylight  the  artillery  was 
deserted,  for  all  but  five  of  the  gunners  were  dead, 
and  the  five  were  disabled. 

The  fighting  went  steadily  on.  It  was  rifle  against 
rifle  now.  The  Texans  felt  jubilant  for  they  were 


122  The  Boy  Captive 

better  riflemen  than  their  foes.  If  only  their  am 
munition  would  hold  out  till  they  could  make  a  rush 
for  the  warehouse  of  the  government  supplies. 

Six  hours  later,  and  the  Mexicans,  fearful  the  Tex- 
ans  might  secure  the  abandoned  cannon,  were  en 
deavoring  to  lasso  the  big  guns.  It  was  a  deadly  task, 
for  the  luckless  head,  or  hand  that  came  within  range 
of  those  rifles  in  the  corner  buildings.  At  last  they 
were  successful  in  getting  their  ropes  over  the  pon 
derous  machine  and  slowly  the  cumbersome  wheels  re 
volved  under  the  steady  pull  of  the  straining  arms  at 
the  end  of  the  rope,  and  the  "fire-eaters"  knew  that 
they  might  turn  their  deadly  attention  to  others  of  the 
enemy. 

Meanwhile  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  in  the 
old  adobe  hut,  the  right  men  who  were  detailed  to 
get  poor  Joe  Berry  out  of  the  gulch,  were  sitting  where 
they  could  see  their  comrades  fighting.  It  had  taken 
them  sometime  to  get  their  unfortunate  comrade  upon 
the  high  ground  and  to  the  shelter  of  the  house.  Then 
it  had  taken  their  united  strength  to  hold  the  poor 
fellow  while  the  Doctor  set  the  broken  limb.  But 
they  had  heard  the  roar  of  the  cannon  and  the  crack 
ing  of  the  rifle,  and  they  knew  the  fight  was  on  and 
they  were  condemned  to  uselessness.  It  was  seven 
teen  hours  since  they  had  heard  the  first  noise  of  the 
battle,  and  all  night  long  the  ground  shook  with  the 
roaring  of  the  cannon,  but,  with  the  coming  of  day, 
the  firing  had  grown  farther  apart,  till  at  last  it  had 


The  Boy  Captive  123 


ceased,  and  only  the  popping  of  rifles  told  them  that 
fighting  was  still  going  on- 
Poor  Joe  muttered  and  groaned  in  the  delirium  of 
fever,  and  it  was  hard  work  to  keep  him  still  on  the 
miserable  pallet.  They  could  see  men  on  the  house 
tops  firing  at  those  below.  Long  and  anxiously  had 
they  gazed  with  the  pent-up  ferocity  of  a  chained  bull 
dog,  with  a  vagabond  just  out  of  reach. 

Suddenly  they  saw  a  detachment  of  sixty  cavalry 
men  coming  up  from  the  ford.  They  dashed  by  the 
old  adobe  house  unsuspecting,  for  they  were  on  the 
lookout  for  the  expected  Texan  re-inforcement  from 
across  the  Rio  Grande. 

"When  this  clanking,  glittering  band  came  in  range 
it  was  more  than  these  men  could  withstand,  reck 
less  of  the  consequences,  with  one  impulse  each  reach 
ed  for  his  gun  and  took  aim  and  each  brought  down 
a  victim. 

The  cavalry,  taken  by  surprise,  scattered  in  con 
fusion.  But  alas !  another  detachment  had  seen  the 
rash  Texans.  These  had  a  field-piece.  They  trained 
it  on  the  house. 

The  Texans  knew  the  first  shot  would  crumble  the 
walls  to  dust.  If  they  ran  the  house  would  not  be 
fired  on,  and  Joe  might  have  a  chance,  while  they 
might,  perhaps,  gain  the  river,  get  over  on  the  other 
side  and  join  their  companions.  They  made  the  wild 
dash  but  the  foe  was  on  the  alert,  and  the  three  fore 
most  bit  the  dust  never  to  rise  again ;  Tom  Davis  and 


124  The  Boy  Captive 


Joe's  brother,  Bate,  reached  the  other  side  dripping 
and  hatless,  but  bearing  their  guns  in  safety,  and  soon 
were  in  the  thick  of  the  fighting  they  had  been  watch 
ing  so  long. 

Dr.  Sinnickson  and  the  other  two  were  captured, 
and  they  supposed  that  Joe  would  be  taken  to  a  hos 
pital.  What  was  their  horror  to  see  a  soldier  walk 
up  to  the  poor  fellow  tossing  in  his  fever  and  de 
liberately  stab  him,  then  the  three  captives  were 
marched  over  the  river  to  the  headquarters  of  the 
two  Mexican  generals. 

The  battle  had  gone  on  steadily  on  the  other  side, 
and  John  and  his  companions  were  now  turning  their 
attention  to  the  men  on  the  azoteas  of  the  buildings- 
Captain  Cameron  and  his  men  had  suffered  much 
in  the  yard  and  now  sent  in  for  re-inforcements. 
General  Green  sent  as  many  men  as  he  could  spare, 
for  the  Mexicans  were  now  coming  on  the  north  side 
of  the  square,  and  the  news  that  Colonel  Fisher  had 
been  wounded,  threw  more  of  the  responsibility  on 
his  shoulders.  Still,  they  knew  they  were  getting 
the  best  of  the  encounter  and  felt  that  their  wounded 
was  nothing  in  comparison  to  the  piles  of  Mexican 
dead. 

"We  are  beating  them!"  cried  Billie,  smearing  his 
grimy  face  with  his  ragged  sleeve. 

"They  are  getting  awful  tired,"  said  Orlando. 

"What  is  that  for?"  exclaimed  all  of  them.  The 
men  stared  at  each  other  for  they  heard  the  sound  of 


The  Boy  Captive  125 


bugles,  and  then  the  firing  in  their  rear  ceased  and 
silence  followed. 

The  tired  men  leaned  on  their  rifles,  weary  but 
jubilant,  so  sure  were  they  that  the  victory  was  theirs. 

Judge  of  the  scene  that  followed  when  they  found 
that  the  Mexicans  had  demanded  their  surrender. 

Colonel  Fisher,  weakened  from  the  loss  of  blood 
and  the  lack  of  food,  for  they  had  eaten  nothing  in 
twenty-four  hours  or  more  was  completely  disheart 
ened  and  recommended  that  they  surrender  as  their 
ammunition  was  exhausted  and  they  had  no  food. 
He  had  been  associated  with  General  Ampudia  and 
knew  him  to  be  an  honorable  man  who  would  respect 
the  usages  of  war. 

The  unfortunate  Dr.  Sinnickson  had  been  compell 
ed  to  bring  the  message  under  the  white  flag  and 
could  give  his  comrades  no  information  beyond  that 
contained  in  the  message  from  the  Mexican  command 
ers,  for  he  had  not  had  an  opportunity  to  see  how 
large  a  force  they  had  at  their  command.  The  mess 
age  from  General  Canales  said: 

"We  have  1700  regular  troops  in  the  city  and  ex 
pect  800  additional  in  a  short  time." 

The  wildest  confusion  prevailed  among  the  Texans. 
One  hour  was  allowed  for  the  truce,  and  the  scene 
baffled  description. 

General  Green  was  opposed  to  any  consideration  of 
terms  of  surrender,  and  quoted  the  fate  of  Colonel 

8 


126  The  Boy  Captive 

Fannin's  men,  Captain  Reese,  Captain  Cameron 
and  Captain  Pierson  also  preferred  to  beat  their  way 
to  the  river  with  the  butts  of  their  guns  rather  than 
trust  to  the  honor  of  the  foe.  Thus  had  the  actions  of 
one  bad  man  destroyed  the  faith  of  the  Texans  in  the 
honor  of  the  Mexicans.  And  they  were  right,  for 
Santa  Anna  was  the  head  of  the  government  and  none 
dared  disobey  his  orders  without  facing  very  un 
pleasant  consequences.  There  are  few  people  that 
will  run  unpleasant  risks  for  those  who  are  not  bound 
by  close  ties  of  affection  or  self-interest.  The  Tex 
ans  well  knew  that  no  matter  what  terms  the  Mexican 
generals  made,  Santa  Anna  would  disregard  them  if 
he  did  not  approve. 

General  Green  knew  that  he  could  expect  little  or 
no  mercy  because  he  had  had  some  unpleasant  as 
sociations  with  Santa  Anna's  imprisonment  while  in 
Texas.  Some  of  the  men  of  the  Texas  and  Santa  Fe 
Expedition  had  been  in  Mexico  as  prisoners  before 
and  had  been  released  only  a  short  time. 

At  last  a  number  decided  to  do  as  Colonel  Fisher 
advised.  The  men  opposed,  gave  way  to  wildest  up- 
braidings  and  taunts,  but  even  as  they  raved  they 
saw  their  comrades  march  by  and  lay  down  their 
guns  on  the  pavement. 

The  order  of  Capitulation  read: 

Camp  of  Army  of  North,  1st  Division. 

Viz:  Agreeable  to  the  conference  I  had  with  Col 
onel  W.  8.  Fisher,  I  have  decided  to  grant. 


The  Boy  Captive  127 


1st.  That  all  who  will  give  their  arms  will  be 
treated  with  the  Consideration  which  is  in  accordance 
with  the  Magnanimous  Mexican  Nation. 

2nd.  That  conformably  to  the  petition  which  said 
General  Fisher  has  made  me,  all  p&rsons  belonging 
to  the  Santa  Fe  Expedition  will  receive  the  same 
treatment  and  guarantees  as  the  rest. 

3rd.  All  who  desire  <•>  avail  themselves  of  these 
terms  will  enter  the  square  and  there  deliver  up  their 
arms. 

Pedro  D'Ampudia. 

The  note  of  surrender  from  Colonel  Fisher  to  Gen 
eral  Ampudia  read: 

Mier,  Dec.  26,  1842. 
"8*:" 

The  forces  which  through  the  chances  of  war,  I 
now  surrender  to  you,  are  composed  of  the  most  vali 
ant  and  intelligent  citizens  of  Texas.  They  have 
contended  manfully  against  yowr  superior  force  and 
have  yielded  only  when  it  was  deemed  folly  longer  to 
contend.  Your  well  established  character  as  a  brave 
and  magnanimous  officer,  is  a  certain  guarantee  to  me 
that  they  will  be  treated  as  brave  men  deserve  to  be. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be  most  respectfully  yours, 
W.  S.  Fisher,  Commanding. 

The  aggregate  number  of  Texans  engaged  in  this 
battle  was  two  hundred  and  sixty-one,  their  loss  being 
ten  killed,  twenty-three  badly  wounded  and  several 
slightly.  The  aggregate  number  of  the  Mexican 


128  The  Boy  Captive 

forces  engaged  was,  twenty-three  hundred  and  forty, 
composed  of  the  Zapadores  battalion,  the  Yucatan 
regiment,  a  portion  of  each  of  the  7th  and  12th  regi 
ments,  and  the  artillery  company  of  sixty  men,  re 
gulars  in  all,  1240,  also  800  mounted  "Defensors" 
under  Colonel  Canales  and  not  less  than  three  hun 
dred  volunteer  citizens.  The  Mexican  report  of  their 
loss  on  the  evening  of  the  surrender  was  430  killed 
and  130  wounded.* 

But,  when  General  Green  realized  that  a  capitula 
tion  was  the  only  alternative,  he  stepped  forward  and 
handed  his  sword  to  General  Ampudia,  who  in  receiv 
ing  it  said:  "I  appreciate  fully,  the  feelings  of  the 
brave,  but  such  is  the  fate  of  war.  My  house  and 
friendship  are  yours  and  I  hope  you  will  consider 
yourself  my  guest  and  will  call  upon  me  for  any  serv 
ice  in  my  power."  The  two  Generals  then  walked 
together  over  the  field  of  battle,  nothing  definite  hav 
ing  been  known  at  that  time  of  the  mortality.  Gener 
al  Ampudia,  caught  sight  of  his  own  beloved  son, 
Don  Miguel  Arsnal  de  Ampudia,  Adjt.  General  of  the 
Mexican  forces,  writhing  in  the  death  agony.  With 
choking  voice  and  streaming  eyes  General  Ampudia 
said;  "There,  is  my  own  beloved  son.  He  has  re 
ceived  a  death  wound  and  must  soon  die,  he  was  the 
hope  of  the  army,  the  pride  of  the  service. ' '  General 
Green  made  an  effort  to  console  General  Ampudia, 
saying,  "I  hope  you  will  accept  my  sympathy  in  this 
your  great  sorrow,  but  this  is  the  fate  of  war.  The 


*  Green's  Mier  Expedition,  pa&e  120. 


The  Boy  Captive  129 

brave  in  all  ranks  share  our  sympathy-"  General 
Green  pays  a  high  tribute  to  this  accomplished  young 
officer,  a  graduate  of  Chapultepec  Military  College, 
and  one  who  gave  pleasure  to  all  who  came  within 
the  radius  of  his  fine  personality. 

Later,  says  General  Green:  "General  Ampudia 
visited  the  church  with  me  to  see  the  wounded  and 
carried  them  many  bandages.  Drs.  Sinnickson,  Bren- 
ham  and  Shepard  were  attending  them.  All  were 
cheerful,  though  most  of  them  badly  wounded.  I 
have  never  yet  seen  a  calamity  so  great  befall  the 
Texans  as  to  prevent  their  making  fun,  and  when  I 
asked  them,  'how  are  you  off  for  rations,'  they  re 
plied  :  ' '  Oh,  we  have  plenty  of  brains,  General. ' ' 

"When  the  commotion  and  terror  of  the  siege  were 
over,  old  Padre  Garcia,  who  was  the  resident  priest 
at  the  time,  at  once  began  calling  troops,  the  alcaldes, 
alguacils,  and  the  general  faithful  to  mass  for  the  rest 
of  the  souls  of  the  Mexican  dead.  After  mass,  the  old 
padre  in  person  inaugurated  the  feria,  a  fair  of  eight 
to  fifteen  days  duration,  where  dancing,  drinking, 
chicken  fights,  polos,  bull  fights  and  gambling  went  on 
with  unimpeded  success." 


*  Page  110   Green's  Mier  Expedition. 


THE 
SURRENDER 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    SURRENDER. 

RIND  AN  sus  armas!     Eindanse."     (Lay  down 
your  arms!  surrender.) 
A  painful  silence  followed  his  peremptory 
command. 

One — two — then  three  of  the  gaunt,  haggard  Texans 
slowly  came  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  doorway,  and, 
with  a  glare  of  stifled  hatred  at  the  Mexicans,  who 
awaited  their  action  with  ill-concealed  interest,  re 
luctantly  laid  their  guns  on  the  pavement,  then 
stepped  aside  with  sullen  composure  to  await  their 
comrades. 

One  by  one  the  others  followed  with  weary  de 
spairing  steps,  ready  even  then  to  retract  and  fight  it 
out  although  death  be  assured.  Among  the  last  was 
Big  Foot  Wallace,  who  strode  out  a  powder-stained, 
grimy  giant  scowling  down  at  the  slender,  dark  little 
men  who  gazed  at  him  with  wondering  and  admiring 
eyes.  He  was  empty  handed  having  broken  his  gun 
in  despairing  rage,  that  he  should  be  compelled  to 
repeat  the  fate  that  had  overtaken  his  brother,  one 
of  the  men  who  had  fought  with  Fannin.  It  was  the 
murder  of  this  brother  that  had  brought  "Wallace 
from  his  old  Virginia  home  for  vengeance. 

Behold  the  end  of  his  vengeance!  A  lion  in  a 
trap. 


134  The  Boy  Captive 

It  was  over.  Even  the  Santa  Fe  men  had  slowly 
followed  their  comrades  out  to  what  they  considered 
a  certain  death. 

The  Mexicans  watched  with  keenest  interest  every 
movement  of  the  Texans.  All  had  laid  down  their 
arms  save  one. 

Just  one  more!  A  little  slender  lad  stood  facing 
them. 

He  stood  near  the  doorway.  His  large  dark  eyes 
were  eloquent  in  their  appealing  look.  His  lips  were 
drawn  back  in  tense  lines  over  his  white  teeth.  His 
cheek  all  grimy  with  the  smoke  of  powder,  lay  in  mute 
caress  on  the  barrel  of  the  small  rifle  that  he  held  in 
close  embrace,  even  as  one  who  holds  a  cooing  dove. 

One  moment  he  stood  before  the  astonished  Mexi 
cans  a  mute  figure  of  despair.  Then  his  eyes  flashed 
fire  and  defiance  and  whirling  his  gun  in  the  air,  he 
skillfully  caught  it  by  the  barrel  and  springing  for 
ward  with  the  litheness  of  a  panther  he  struck  the 
upraised  weapon  with  all  of  his  force  upon  the  edge 
of  the  stone  pavement.  The  stock  fell  a  splintered 
wreck  leaving  the  barrel  in  his  hands. 

One  moment  he  gazed  upon  his  ruined  treasure.  Its 
mission  was  ended.  Between  his  clenched  teeth  he 
muttered:  "I've  kept  my  promise." 

The  gun-barrel  fell  from  his  nerveless  hands  with  a 
sharp  clink  on  the  stony  edge  of  the  pavement,  then 
rolled  into  the  gutter.  With  a  sudden  revulsion  of 


Painting  by  Bock 


"I've  kept  my  promise' 


The  Boy  Captive  135 

feeling  he  turned  and  leaned  against  the  adobe  wall 
hiding  his  face  on  his  arm- 

A  rustle  of  relaxation  went  through  the  tense 
crowd.  Even  the  haggard  prisoners  forgot  their  own 
misery  in  the  sorrow  of  their  boy  comrade.  Not  a 
man  among  them  but  knew  the  story  of  the  rifle. 

Not  so  with  the  Mexicans.  Officers  and  men  but 
dimly  guessed  the  motive  that  prompted  the  rash 
act.  To  them  it  was  a  daring  deed  of  defiance,  and 
coming  from  one  so  young  it  filled  them  with  en 
thusiastic  admiration.  A  low  murmur  of  sympathy 
ran  through  the  crowd  of  soldiers,  while  exclamations 
of  "Pobredtol  Pobrecito!  El  tiene  mucko  valor." 
(Poor  little  fellow!  Poor  little  fellow!  He  has  a 
great  deal  of  courage)  came  from  among  them. 

The  report  of  the  boy's  daring  deed  spread  rapidly ; 
he  had  scarcely  fallen  back  into  the  pitiful  group  of 
prisoners  when  a  special  messenger  from  General 
Ampudia  appeared  with  a  command  for  the  little 
prisoner  to  be  sent  to  him  immediately. 

Poor  little  hero!  To  him  the  command  was  the 
forerunner  of  a  death  sentence.  He  had  violated  the 
ethics  of  war.  He  must  pay  the  terrible  penalty. 

He  gave  one  last  lingering  look  at  his  father's  face, 
sunken  with  fatigue  and  creased  with  lines  of  anxiety 
and  suffering.  Poor  Jeffrey,  who  was  badly  wound 
ed,  did  not  even  look  at  him  but  hung  his  head  in 
sick  despair.  Father  and  brother  both  feared  the 


136  The  Boy  Captive 

* 

worst.  Past  impressions  had  taught  them  to  expect 
no  mercy  from  a  Mexican. 

The  eyes  of  the  prisoners  followed  the  little  figure 
as  he  walked  with  head  erect  and  rigid  composure  be 
tween  his  guards- 

As  he  turned  the  corner  and  passed  from  their 
sight,  his  father  gave  a  groan  which  found  an  echo 
in  every  heart  of  that  valiant  but  vanquished  band. 


A 
LITTLE  CAPTIVE 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


A  LITTLE  CAPTIVE. 

WITH  unseeing  eyes  as  one  in  a  vision,  John 
walked  between  his  guards.  Low  murmurs 
of  pity  accompanied  his  progress  but  they 
fell  upon  deaf  ears.  Neither  did  he  see  the  pitiful 
forms  that  lay  along  his  path,  silent  and  unheeding 
their  foe,  as  he  walked  past  them,  a  captive. 

His  mother's  face  rose  before  him.  His  mother's 
voice  rang  in  his  ears.  He  should  never  see  her  again. 

They  crossed  the  grand  plaza  and  entered  a  large 
building,  John  still  following  the  movements  of  the 
soldiers  with  unconscious  precision. 

In  the  rear  of  the  spacious  sola  grande  of  the  Garcia 
Mansion,  General  Ampudia  was  seated,  a  command 
ing  figure  enhanced  by  the  splendor  of  his  uniform. 
Around  him  were  gathered  his  staff-officers  and  num 
erous  orderlies,  all  brilliant  in  their  regimentals.  An 
outer  circle  of  big-hatted  soldiers  made  a  fit  setting  to 
the  gorgeous  group. 

All  eyes  were  turned  on  the  little  figure  with  its 
martial  escort. 

Could  this  be  the  defiant  captive?    This  child f 


*  Incidents  of  this  chapter  were  related  by  Juan  C.  C.  Hill, 
hero  of  the  story. 


140  The  Boy  Captive 

Under  the  battery  of  dark  eyes  the  boy  stood,  a 
breathing  image.  The  beauty  of  his  face,  though 
marred  by  the  powder-grime,  was  apparent  to  all, 
and  they  marked  the  traces  of  tears.  General  Ampu- 
dia  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  the  pathetic  little 
figure-  He  noted  the  soiled  and  ragged  garments  that 
bore  silent  but  eloquent  witness  of  the  terrible  quag 
mire,  the  thorny  chaparral,  long  rides  under  rainy 
skies  with  no  protection  from  the  weather.  One 
grimy,  tanned  little  hand  clutched  the  remnant  of 
his  weather-stained  hat,  while  the  other  was  clenched 
in  a  close,  beligerent  coil,  mute  sign  of  defiance. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  General  Ampudia,  having  at 
that  very  hour  lost  his  own  son,  was  deeply  affected 
by  the  appearance  of  this  brave  little  hero  before 
him. 

As  the  General  looked  at  the  young  face,  pinched 
and  drawn  from  the  lack  of  food,  the  loss  of  sleep, 
and  terrible  fatigue  and  strain  of  battle,  his  heart 
filled  vrith  pity.  His  eyes  grew  misty  as  they  met 
the  look  of  despair  in  the  dark  eyes  of  the  young 
captive. 

"Mi  hi  jit  o!  (my  little  son)  Do  not  fear.  I  shall 
do  you  no  harm!" 

John's  mind  dulled  with  fatigue  and  dazed  with 
apprehension,  failed  to  comprehend.  He  still  stood 
with  a  steadfast  gaze  fixed  on  the  General's  face. 

"Queridito    (dear   little   one),   come   nearer,   said 


General  Pedro  Ampudia 


The  Boy  Captive  143 

the  General  extending  his  arm.  The  kindly  gesture 
awoke  the  boy's  bewildered  consciousness  and  with  a 
step  forward,  he  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  felt  the 
comforting  shelter  of  the  protecting  arm. 

"You  are  very  young  to  be  a  soldier.  Have  the 
Texans  so  few  men  that  they  must  send  their  little 
ones  to  battle?" 

"I  am  no  little  one,"  said  John  resentfully,  "I 
am  nearly  thirteen  years  old." 

"A  thousand  apologies,  seiior,"  said  the  courtly 
Mexican.  "I  did  not  know.  It  is  a  manly  age.  A 
faint  glint  of  amusement  shone  in  his  eyes.  A  gleam 
of  white  teeth  and  an  audible  stir  in  the  room  as  the 
interpreter  translated  the  foregoing,  caused  Joho  to 
look  away  from  the  General  at  the  swarthy  faces  sur 
rounding  him.  Distrust  again  seized  upon  him. 

"What  is  your  name  hi  jit  o  mio?" 

"John  Christopher  Columbus  Hill. 

"Juan  Cristobal  Colon  Gil,"  jepeated  the  General 
with  a  faint  smile,  "And  what  did  you  expect  to 
discover  in  Mexico?" 

"I  came  to  fight  Mexicans." 

"Have  you  no  father?" 

"Why  yes,  he  is  out  there  with  my  brother,  Jef 
frey,"  nodding  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the  plaza. 

' '  Well,  how  is  it  when  you  had  a  father  and  brother 
to  send  to  war  that  you  did  not  stay  with  your 
mother?" 

"Why,  I  came  along  to  take  care  of  father  and 

9 


144  The  Boy  Captive 

Jeff.  My  other  brother,  James  Monroe,  is  at  home 
with  my  mother  and  little  sisters.  Besides,  it 
was  my  turn  to  fight.  James  Monroe  helped  lick 
the  Mexicans  at  San  Jacinto.  I  was  not  old  enough 
to  go  that  time,  so  it  was  my  turn  now." 

"Were  you  born  in  Texas?"  asked  the  General. 
"No,  sir,"  answered  the  boy,  "I  am  a  native  of 
Columbus,  Georgia.    I  was  the  first  white  child  born 
in  that  town. ' ' 

An  indescribable  look  went  over  the  General's  face. 
The  boy  had  forgotten  his  surroundings. 

"Well,  Senor  Don  Juan,  the  Mexicans  are  the 
victors  this  time.  Why  did  you  break  your  rifle, 
Juan?" 

Under  the  kindly  manner  of  the  courtly  gentle 
man,  John's  fears  had  taken  flght  and,  with  the  art- 
lessness  of  youth,  bred  in  the  straightforward  simpli 
city  of  frontier  life  he  poured  forth  the  history  of  the 
little  rifle  and  its  active  service  at  San  Jacinto ;  of  his 
desire  to  join  the  expedition,  and  his  mother's  re 
luctance  and  final  consent- 
She  had  prayed  all  night,  said  he,  and  at  last  it 
seemed  to  her  that  God  said,  "Let  John  go,  he  v/ill 
help  your  husband  and  son."  With  simple  eloquence 
he  told  of  his  brother's  gift  of  the  rifle  and  the 
solemn  charge  concerning  it.  As  he  finished  his  re 
cital  his  tired  little  figure  straightened  involuntarily. 
He  threw  his  head  back  with  an  air  of  pride  and  his 


The  Boy  Captive  145 


eyes  flashed  as  once  more  he  exclaimed — "I've  kept 
my  promise!" 

Life  is  full  of  antitheses.  The  scene  in  some  re 
spects  recalls  the  time  when  Prince  Edward,  son  of 
Henry  VI,  was  brought  before  Edward  IV,  the  usurp 
ing  King.  The  Prince  on  being  asked  the  insolent 
question  as  to  how  he  dared  to  invade  the  kingdom 
of  Edward  IV,  replied  with  the  diginity  suited  to  his 
position,  "I  came  hither  to  claim  my  just  inherit 
ance."  On  receiving  his  answer,  the  king  struck  his 
boy  prisoner  and  youthful  rival  in  the  face  with  his 
gauntlet,  which  was  the  signal  for  his  willing  sycop 
hants  to  dispatch  the  young  Prince  with  their  dag 
gers. 

Contrast  the  action  of  the  ignoble  king  with  the 
considerateness  of  the  Mexican  general. 

"Tell  me,  Juan,  are  you  one  of  those  boys  who  did 
such  deadly  work  with  Captain  Castro's  battery?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  boy.  "General  Green 
put  the  boys  and  me  with  some  of  the  men  to  pick 
off  the  men  at  the  cannon.  He  told  us  to  take  good 
aim  and  not  miss  or  the  cannon  would  tear  the  wall 
down  and  and  kill  a  Whole  lot  of  us.  So  we  were 
very  careful. ' ' 

"Of  that,  my  son,  I  am  assured."  Encouraged  by 
the  General's  kindly  manner,  John  continued  his 
story  of  the  battle  by  saying : 

"I  can  count  twelve  of  your  men,  it  may  have 
been  fifteen  that  I  picked  off  with  my  little  rifle;  but 


146  The  Boy  Captive 

I  am  not  sure  of  but  twelve. ' '  The  boy  looked  stead 
ily  and  fearlessly  into  his  questioner's  eyes,  while  the 
General  listened  and  watched,  as  only  a  Mexican  can, 
every  expression  that  flitted  across  the  boy's  face, 
every  tone  that  vibrated  in  the  childish  voice. 

Courage  and  truth  have  no  nationality-  All  the 
world  loves  a  hero.  "What  wonder  that  General  Am- 
pudia  felt  that  this  life  was  too  precious  to  suffer  the 
mischance  of  a  prisoner  of  war. 

A  murmur  of  astonishment  went  around  the  room. 
It  had  already  been  discovered  that  the  men  who  had 
belonged  to  the  battery,  had  been  found  dead  with  a 
bullet  hole  through  the  brain.  In  reflecting  on  the 
remarkable  skill  of  the  young  Texans,  it  must  be  re 
membered  that  they  were  forced  to  learn  the  use  of 
firearms  at  a  very  early  age.  It  was  utterly  im 
possible  for  any  settler,  old  or  young,  to  venture  out 
of  reach  of  his  weapons  night  or  day,  for  he  could 
never  know  what  savages  might  be  lurking  near. 
Deer  were  so  plentiful  that  herds  of  them  would  de 
stroy  the  crops  if  careful  watch  was  not  kept.  Panth 
er,  bear,  wolf  and  prowling  Indian,  made  a  true  eye 
and  steady  aim  necessary  to  self-preservation.  Am 
munition  was  precious  and  not  to  be  wasted  when  the 
lack  of  a  charge  might  mean  the  loss  of  a  life. 

The  Mexican  officers  were  generally  gentlemen  of 
noble  descent,  but  their  common  soldiers  at  that 
period  were  mostly  drawn  from  the  criminal  classes 
and  were  forced  into  the  service,  so  it  is  no  wonder 


The  Boy  Captive  147 

that  their  marksmanship  did  not  equal  that  of  the 
Texans.  They  had  neither  the  training  nor  incen 
tive  that  led  to  such  excellence. 

The  low  hum  of  voices  died  away  at  General  Am- 
pudia's  next  question. 

"Who  were  your  companions,  hijito  miof" 

"Harvey  Sellers,  Orlando  Phelps,  Billie  Reese  and 
Gilbert  Brush  were  with  me. ' ' 

"Repeat  the  names,  Juan,  slowly." 

As  John  repeated  the  names,  General  Ampudia 
wrote  a  message  and  beckoning  one  of  his  orderlies, 
gave  him  instructions  in  such  rapid,  smooth  flowing 
sounds  that  Juan,  who  had  acquired  a  little  "Mexi 
can,"  as  he  called  it,  was  unable  to  distinguish  one 
word. 

But  presently  the  General  turned  and  placing  a 
hand  on  Juan 's  head  said : 

' '  My  boy,  you  are  a  brave  little  fellow  and  you  and 
your  young  companions  make  fine  soldiers,  because 
you  obey  orders.  You  must  be  weary.  Follow  this 
officer  and  he  will  see  that  you  have  food  and  rest-" 

On  this  interview  with  General  Ampudia,  our 
young  hero  loses  his  good  old  American  name,  John, 
and  will  be  known  through  the  remainder  of  the  story 
as  Juan,  with  the  prefix  Don,  according  to  the  cus 
tom  when  addressing  one  of  equal  rank,  the  gentle 
Latin  appellation  given  him  in  this,  his  first  inter 
view  with  his  distinguished  captor. 


148  The  Boy  Captive 

Juan  opened  his  lips,  faltered,  closed  them  and  look 
ed  at  the  General  piteously. 

"What  is  it,  Juan?" 

"My  father  and  Jeffrey,  they "  his  voice  broke. 

"They  will  be  cared  for.  All  the  men  will  be  fed 
and  sheltered." 

"But  they — they  think  I  am  going  to  be  shot!" 
gasped  Juan. 

"Oh  no,  hombrecito  (My  little  man)  they  shall 
be  told  and  tomorrow  you  shall  see  them.  Haste 
luego"  (I  will  see  you  later.) 

When  Juan  quitted  the  presence  of  General  Am- 
pudia,  in  spite  of  hunger  and  fatigue,  he  felt  cheerful 
for  youth  is  buoyant,  and  he  had  escaped  death  by  a 
little.  His  father  was  alive  and  Jeff — yes,  Jeff  was 
wounded  but  it  would  heal  and  they  would  all  see 
mother  and  home  again.  Great  was  Juan's  surprise 
and  pleasure  to  find  Billie,  Harvey  and  Gilbert  wait 
ing  for  him  in  the  apartment  to  which  the  orderly  led 
the  way. 

The  boys  were  too  tired  to  talk  over  the  events  of 
the  day  and,  after  washing  the  dirt  and  grime  from 
their  tired  bodies,  were  glad  to  eat  the  bountiful  sup 
per  served  them. 

The  comfortable  cots  with  their  abundant  supply  of 
clean  linen  and  blankets,  were  very  enticing  to  the 
boys,  who  had  lost  so  much  sleep,  and  as  they  knew 
they  would  not  see  their  comrades  till  the  next  morn 
ing,  they  were  soon  asleep. 


The  Boy  Captive  149 

General  Green  and  Colonel  Fisher  also  lodged  in  the 
same  building  and  were  treated  with  the  courtesy 
belonging  to  their  rank.  General  Ampudia  was  pre 
viously  acquainted  with  Colonel  Fisher.  The  terms 
of  the  surrender  assured  the  Texans  they  would  be 
treated  with  the  consideration  due  to  prisoners  of 
war,  and  that  they  would  be  held  on  the  frontier  un 
til  the  two  governments  could  make  arrangements  for 
their  release  or  exchange. 

Upon  request,  General  Green  was  allowed  to  visit 
the  men  in  their  prison,  and  to  procure  such  neces 
sities  for  the  wounded  as  he  could  afford. 

He  found  the  men  most  unpleasantly  situated-  In 
one  small  apartment  were  crowded  not  less  than 
one  hundred.  There  was  nothing  strange  about  this, 
as  the  little  town  was  not  prepared  for  such  a  large 
number  of  prisoners,  and  from  what  you  have  read 
you  will  readily  agree  that  they  were  wise  to  secure 
such  daring  reckless  men.  But  it  was  natural  that 
General  Green  should  feel  resentful  and  bitter,  for  he 
had  opposed  with  all  his  force,  the  surrender  under 
any  terms,  however  fair.  Nor  was  his  frame  of  mind 
improved  by  seeing  the  men. 

Sam  Walker,  the  bravest,  finest  scout  they  had,  was 
captured  in  the  preliminary  brush  with  General  Can- 
nales'  "Defensors"  at  the  ford;  and,  as  he  was  con 
fined  where  he  had  a  full  view  of  the  battle,  he  knew 
the  condition  of  the  Mexican  forces.  He  told  the  un 
fortunate  Texans  that  they  were  taken  by  strategy. 


150  The  Boy  Captive 

That  the  Mexicans  were  defeated  and  had  no  expect 
ed  reserves  within  call;  that  the  great  gates  of  the 
cathedral  yard  were  opened  and  the  officers'  horses 
ready,  saddled  for  flight,  in  case  they  refused  to  sur 
render;  that  they  sent  Dr.  Sinnickson  with  the  flag 
of  truce  because  he  had  not  been  within  their  ranks 
long  enough  to  find  out  their  real  condition. 

All  this  was  maddening  to  men  who  were  deprived 
of  their  arms  and  ammunition.  The  boys  could  not 
have  slept  so  soundly  had  they  known  it,  or  how  the 
men  were  quartered. 


ANOTHER  KIND  OF 
COURAGE 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ANOTHER  KIND  OF  COURAGE.* 

POOR  Juan  lay  down  on  his  clean,  comfort 
able  bed  with  the  unhappy  feeling  that  his 
father  and  brother  were  sleeping  on  the 
hard  floor,  a  poor  exchange  for  the  soft  mesquite  grass 
and  the  pure  air  under  the  starry  vault  of  heaven. 
Sleep  finally  came,  and  he  closed  his  eyes  to  the  pain 
ful  realities  he  was  powerless  to  help. 

He  dreamed  that  James,  his  brother,  came  to  him 
with  a  sad  face  and  asked  him, — "  Where  is  your  rifle, 
John?"  and  then  his  dear  mother  came  and  looked  at 
him  oh,  so  pitifully  and  said,  ''John,  take  care  of 
your  father  and  brother."  He  awoke  with  a  start 
to  find  himself  in  an  unfamiliar  room  with  the  morn 
ing  sun  shining  on  the  white  walls  and  the  three  single 
beds  in  which  his  comrades  had  slept  were  empty. 

The  boy  looked  about  for  his  clothes,  but  not  one 
garment  was  to  be  found.  The  boys  must  have  had 
their  clothes.  An  orderly  entered  the  room  with  an 
elegant  suit  of  clothes  hanging  on  his  arm  such  as 
might  be  worn  by  a  Castillian  Prince. 

Here  was  a  good  roof  and  a  thick  wall  to  keep  off 
the  air  and  dew  of  heaven.  Of  what  avail  to  one  who 
enjoyed  the  bivouac  on  the  ground.  Walls  for  the 
illimitable  space  of  the  plains.  Windows  for  the 


*  Incidents  of   this   chapter   were  g-iven  the  author  by   Mr. 
J.  C.  C.  Hill  in  person. 


154  The  Boy  Captive 

transparent  atmosphere,  redolent  with  purity  and 
vitality. 

The  little  captive  gazed  about  him  with  som 
ber  eyes.  He  wondered  how  Jeff  felt.  He  knew 
the  wound  was  very  painful,  though  Jeff  would  be 
sure  to  say  it  was  nothing.  And  maybe  father  had 
not  slept  for  thinking  about  Jeff  and  the  trouble  they 
were  all  in. 

He  wished  he  was  with  the  men  sharing  their  hard 
ships,  for  Juan  was  the  true  mettle,  he  could  not  fully 
enjoy  the  comfortable  surroundings,  when  he  thought 
of  his  brave  companions. 

The  26th  day  of  December,  1842,  was  the  turning 
point  of  Juan's  life.  But  as  is  generally  the  case, 
he  did  not  recognize  this  fact  till  long  years  had 
passed.  Few  would  care  to  face  a  problem  so  diffi 
cult, — a  situation  so  fraught  with  delicate  considera 
tions  as  this  young  boy  was  called  upon  to  meet.  One 
hour  fighting  with  all  the  ardor  and  desperation  born 
of  a  just  cause  against  an  unjust  foe.  The  next  hour 
the  recipient  of  unexpected  and  undesired  kindnesses 
from  the  leader  of  the  hated  enemy. 

It  was,  at  General  Ampudia's  own  table,  that  Juan 
ate  his  breakfast.  The  General  was  in  the  elegant 
Garcia  residence  which  was  furnished  with  all  the 
luxurious  appointments  that  wealth  could  purchase. 
To  Juan,  who  for  several  months  had  been  living  in 
the  savage  simplicity  of  the  camp,  it  was  overwhelm 
ing  in  its  splendor,  and  he  felt  embarrassed  and 


Juan  Christobal  Colon  Gil 


156  The  Boy  Captive 

awkward.  This  feeling  soon  passed  away  under  the 
tactful  courtesy  of  the  General,  who  listened  with 
evident  enjoyment  while  Juan  related  some  of  the 
hunting  adventures  of  himself  and  brothers.  The 
cordial,  kindly  manner  of  the  General  encouraged 
Juan,  and  he  asked  if  he  might  see  his  father  and 
brother.  The  General  turned  his  keen  black  eyes  on 
the  slender  boy  who  stood  before  him.  What  a  con 
trast  to  the  ragged,  pitiful  little  figure  of  yesterday, 
with  its  powder-grimed  face,  haggard  and  pinched 
from  fatigue  and  anxiety.  The  dainty  white  linen, 
the  short  black  jacket  and  the  red  silk  sash  knotted 
around  his  lithe  young  waist;  and  in  his  hand 
was  the  finest  specimen  of  a  soft  felt  Mexican 
sombrero,  with  its  magnificent  silver  trimmings,  which 
set  off  his  handsome  face  and  figure  to  great  advan 
tage.  He  might  have  been  of  Castillian  descent, 
thought  the  General,  while  he  gazed  with  undisguised 
admiration  upon  his  captive  guest. 

"Queridito  mio,  you  shall  see  them  at  once  and 
we  will  send  them  some  breakfast."  Turning,  he 
issued  some  orders  to  the  servants;  in  a  few  minutes 
Juan,  accompanied  by  an  orderly  and  followed  by 
two  mozos,  (men-servants)  bearing  trays,  stepped 
briskly  through  the  big  doors  across  the  open  space 
between  the  Garcia  residence  and  the  cathedral,  where 
the  wounded  men  were  lying.  He  looked  anxiously 
firound  in  the  dim  light  of  the  interior  at  the  various 
pallets  to  see  which  was  his  unfortunate  brother.  At 


The  Boy  Captive  157 


the  sight  of  his  father,  still  haggard  and  unkempt,  his 
manly  composure  gave  way,  and  flinging  his  arms 
around  the  beloved  neck,  he  sobbed,  "Oh,  father! 
father!  father!" 

"Hush,  Johnnie  boy,"  said  his  father,  tenderly 
stroking  the  dark  head  with  loving,  tremulous  hands. 
"You'll  wake  poor  Jeff."  He  glanced  at  a  pallet 
near  by. 

"I'm  awake,"  said  Jeff.  "Don't  cry,  John.  We 
are  all  right.  I  ain't  got  nothing  but  a  scratch. 
What  you  got  there,  little  brother?" 

"I  brought  you  some  breakfast,"  said  Juan,  mop 
ping  his  eyes  and  trying  to  steady  his  voice  as  he 
beckoned  the  servants  with  the  trays.  The  mozos 
came  forward,  openly  showing  their  sympathy  in 
their  kind,  dark  faces.  The  mozos  tried  to  pre 
serve  an  impassive  countenance,  but  their  expressive 
eyes  were  strong  in  silent  contradictory  eloquence. 

While  Jeff  and  his  father  ate  their  breakfast,  Juan 
related  all  that  happened  since  he  marched  from 
their  sight  to  meet  a  death  sentence. 

"My  boy,  your  mother's  prayer  is  being  answered. 
God  has  you  in  His  care." 

"But,  father,  I  want  to  be  with  the  rest  of  you- 
Here  I  am  in  all  this  silly  finery,  and  look  at  the  rest 
of  you.  They  took  my  clothes  away  from  me,"  said 
Juan,  his  voice  quivering  again,  "and  I  had  to  put 
on  these." 


158  The  Boy  Captive 

"Small  loss,"  said  Jeff,  philosophically.  "I  wish 
you  could  get  me  some  like  'these!'  ' 

"Would  you  wear  them?"  asked  Juan,  who  far 
from  feeling  any  pride  in  his  elegant  appearance, 
was  humbled  to  the  earth,  that  he,  John  Christopher 
Columbus  Hill,  a  loyal  Texan,  should  be  rigged  up  in 
the  outfit  of  a  Mexican !  He,  who  had  helped  the  gay 
Billie  revile  Mexican  costumes,  was  now  arrayed  in 
one  of  the  most  ornate  of  the  despised  habiliments. 
It  was  true  that  Billie  and  the  other  boys  were  also 
in  Mexican  garb,  but  their  degredation  was  less,  as 
their  garments  were  plainer  and  more  like  their 
habitual  garb. 

"John,"  said  his  father,  looking  at  him  kindly, 
"John,  you  must  not  condemn  every  Mexican  for 
what  Santa  Anna  has  done.  You  saw  our  men  obey 
General  Sommervelle,  because  he  was  the  leader. 
There  were  plenty  of  us  yesterday  who  were  not  will 
ing  to  surrender,  but  our  leader,  Colonel  Fisher, 
thought  it  for  the  best.  General  Ampudia  is  an  hon 
orable  gentleman,  I  believe,  and  we  know  he  is  a 
kindly  one,  you  fought  well.  You  were  conquered. 
You  expected  death  and  instead  you  are  shown  great 
kndnesses.  Accept  that  kindness  in  the  spirit  in 
which  it  is  given  and  try  to  show  General  Ampudia 
and  the  other  Mexicans,  that  a  Texan  can  be  brave  in 
more  ways  than  fighting." 

Juan   listened   respectfully   and   in   silence.     His 


The  Boy  Captive  159 


father  was  not  given  to  homilies,  being  a  quiet  man 
whose  deeds  were  his  best  sermons. 

"But,  father,  I  just  wanted  to  be  with  you  and 
Jeff.  It  looks  so  hard  for  me  to  be  dressed  in  fine 
clothes  and  eating  good  things  and  sleeping  in  a  soft 
bed  when  you  and  Jeff  and  the  others  are  fixed  like 
this.  I  promised  mother  to  take  care  of  you ! ' ' 

"You  can  help  us  a  great  deal  more  where  you  are, 
my  boy,  than  if  you  were  shut  up  wtih  us.  I  thank 
God  you  have  not  this  to  endure.  It  is  the  only 
bright  spot  in  all  this  trouble ! ' ' 

"Yes,  indeed,  John,  I  am  awful  glad  you  are  out 
of  it.  Father  and  I  are  big,  strong  men;  and  while 
you  are  spunky,  you  ain't  got  your  growth  yet  and 
you  cannot  stand  what  we  could.  We  will  be 
kept  on  the  border,  Colonel  Fisher  says,  and 
when  we  are  sent  home  we  don't  want  to  take 
any  little  skinny  boy  back  to  mother.  Eat  all  you 
can,  little  brother,  and  if  you  feel  lonesome  among 
the  Mexicans,  why,  just  think  how  glad  father  and 
me  are  that  we  don't  have  to  worry  about  you.  Here 
comes  Dr.  Sinnickson  to  dress  my  wound.  You  go  on, 
John." 

Jeff  was  suffering  a  good  deal  of  pain,  but  knowing 
the  loving  sensitiveness  of  this  beloved  younger 
brother,  he  exerted  himself  to  deceive  the  tender  dark 
eyes.  He  and  his  father  deeply  sympathized  with  the 
loyal  little  soul  that  was  grappling  with  such  a  novel 
situation. 
10 


160  The  Boy  Captive 


"Well,  Senor  Don  Juan,  good  morning!"  said  Dr. 
Sinnickson  as  he  shook  hands  with  John.  "You 
seem  to  have  fallen  on  your  feet,  young  man,"  run 
ning  a  critical  eye  over  the  elegantly  attired  young 
figure. 

"He  don't  think  so,"  said  his  father  with  a  quiet 
smile.  But  Jeff  and  I  feel  differently.  We  would 
not  have  this  nice  breakfast  if  it  were  not  for  his 
good  fortune.  Have  some  of  it,  doctor?" 

"Well,  I  should  say!  Why  you  young  scoundrel, 
you  have  a  gold  mine  in  that  good  looking  young  face 
of  yours ! ' ' 

"There  you  go!"  said  John,  "always  my  good 
looks!  A  fellow  can't  help  his  looks.  I  wish  I  was 
ugly  as " 

"As  I,"  said  the  doctor.  "Just  so!  and  where 
would  you  be  ?  And  what  good  could  you  do  ?  Don 't 
be  a  fool,  boy !  Every  man,  Mexican  or  Texan,  knows 
you  can  fight.  I  think  maybe  they  are  afraid  of 
you,  you  young  tiger.  You  go  on  back  and  scare 
them  into  giving  you  some  good  things  for  these  poor 
lantern-jawed,  knock-kneed,  crooked-nose,  red-headed 
sinners  like  myself  and  Jeff.  Go,  Don  Juan,  and 
attend  to  those  dozen  or  more  funerals  that  are  your 
own  private  business,  and  don't  forget  to  send  us  our 
dinners!" 

"And  the  trousers,"  said  Jeff. 

"See  if  you  can  get  Jeff  some  wine,  son!"  said  the 
father,  putting  a  coin  in  his  hand. 


The  Boy  Captive  161 

Juan  put  it  back  into  his  father's  hand. 

"See,  father,"  he  said,  a  red  flush  dyeing  his 
olive  cheeks  and  slipping  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  he 
drew  forth  a  handful  of  coins.  See,  father,  what  the 
General  has  put  in  my  pocket. 

"Get  out  of  here,"  said  the  doctor,  "before  I  rob 
you!  Take  your  minions  and  depart,  Senor  Don 
Juan  Christobal  Colon  Gil!" 

"Get  my  trousers  with  pocket  linings,  just  like 
yours!"  said  Jeff. 

And  Juan  departed,  but  not  before  he  had  visited 
the  other  pallets  where  some  half  dozen  men  lay 
wounded. 

The  interview  with  his  father  and  brother,  and  the 
good  humored  jesting  of  the  doctor,  with  its  under 
current  of  good  advice,  put  John  in  a  very  different 
train  of  thought,  and  when  he  stepped  out  of  the 
cathedral  door  into  the  light  and  freshness  of  the 
open  plaza,  a  feeling  of  gratitude  rose  from  the 
depths  of  his  heart. 

Across  the  plaza  he  could  see  the  scene  of  yester 
day's  battle.  The  bells  of  the  cathedral  were  tolling 
solemnly  for  the  souls  of  these  bodies,  the  souls  that 
were  in  another  land  and  would  return  no  more. 

And  I  might  have  been  one  of  them!"  said  Juan 
to  himself-  After  all  it  might  be  as  well  to  make  the 
best  of  it,  as  Dr.  Sinnickson  has  done.  The  doctor 
had  been  captured  the  day  before  and  then  forced  to 
carry  the  white  flag  to  his  comrades,  with  the  demand 


162  The  Boy  Captive 


for  their  surrender.  He  was  not  whimpering.  He 
was  going  around  cheerfully  and  helping  the  sick  and 
having  a  pleasant  smile  for  everybody. 

"So  will  I,"  thought  John,  and  turning  a  beaming 
smile  on  the  dark-eyed  soldier  who  was  his  guard,  he 
jingled  his  coin  and  said  in  his  best  Mexican; 
"Quiero  comprar  vino."  (I  wish  to  buy  wine.) 

A  broad  smile  that  displayed  every  tooth  in  the 
full  red-lipped  mouth,  greeted  his  effort  at  Spanish, 
but  whatever  his  opinion  of  Juan's  accent,  the  Mex 
ican  understood  the  remark  and  soon  the  wine  and 
trousers  were  purchased.  After  delivering  these  pur 
chases,  Juan  returned  to  his  apartment,  where  he 
found  Billie  and  the  other  boys  disporting  themselves 
on  the  upper  balcony  that  overlooked  the  patio. 

Billie  was  in  high  glee.  He  had  seen  General 
Green  and  the  General  had  told  him  the  best  joke  on 
the  Mexicans. 

"Yesterday  after  they  were  through  fighting,  and 
General  Green  and  Colonel  Fisher  were  fixing  up  the 
papers  about  the  surrender,  General  Ampudia  said 
he  was  going  to  send  the  cavalry  after  the  men  we 
left  with  the  horses;  and  he  said  that  Colonel  Fisher 
better  send  one  of  our  men  with  them  to  tell  them  to 
surrender  and  come  back  with  the  cavalry,  so  there 
need  be  no  fighting." 

"Billie,  that  is  one  of  your  yarns,"  said  John  se 
verely. 

"Gospel  truth!    Ain't  it,  Harvey?" 


The  Boy  Captive  163 

' '  Uh-hu !  I  reckon  Ampudia  thought  they  was  too 
bashful  to  come  without  an  invitation!" 

"He  must  think  they  are  fools!  Free  and  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  with  all  the  horses  and  their 
guns,  to  come  over  here  and  give  themselves  up  as 
prisoners!" 

"That  is  what  General  Green  and  Colonel  Fisher 
thought,  but  they  only  said  they  hardly  thought  the 
men  would  do  it.  General  Green  asked  if  he  might 
send  Sailing  Master  Lyou  after  his  papers  and  his 
journal.  He  wanted  to  secure  his  valuable  maps,  et 
setterys,  especially  the  et  setterys.  So  General  Am 
pudia  was  awful  polite  about  it,  and  Sammy  Lyon 
was  sent  with  the  cavalry  to  call  the  boys  to  take  sup 
per  with  us  and  bring  all  their  baggage  with  them, 
as  they  were  invited  for  a  long  visit ! ' ' 

"Of  course  they  just  broke  their  necks  to  get  here 
in  time,"  said  John,  derisively. 

' '  Yes,  they  was  so  tickled,  when  they  got  the  invite 
that  they  started  for  home  on  a  dead  run  to  tell  their 
folks  about  it." 

"What  did  they  do,  sure  enough,  Billie?  Quit 
joking." 

"Why,  old  Lyon  has  got  a  voice  on  him  like  a  bull; 
that  is  why  General  Green  sent  him.  He  is  used  to 
roaring  orders  at  sea  in  a  high  wind.  When  they 
reached  the  river,  the  captain  of  the  cavalry  did  not 
want  to  scare  them  before  they  got  their  orders,  so  he 
held  in  his  men  behind  the  chaparral  and  told  Lyon 


164  The  Boy  Captive 


to  holler  across  for  the  boats.  Lyon,  he  gets  as  near 
as  he  can,  then  he  yells:  "Boys,  we  are  all  prison 
ers!  There  are  several  hundred  cavalry  close  by  in 
pursuit  of  you.  Take  all  the  good  horses  and  put!" 

"And  they  put!"  said  John,  enthusiastically. 

"You  bet.  A  jack  rabbit  would  be  plum  dizzy 
trying  to  keep  ahead  of  'em!"  said  Harvey. 

"But  the  General's  papers  and  maps?  Did  he  get 
them?" 

"It  was  the  et  setterys  the  General  was  worried 
over.  The  et  setterys  are  safe  on  their  way  and  I 
guess  those  maps  of  the  General's  is  in  their  heads! 
So  everything  is  safe." 


Account  is  taken  from   "Green's  Mier  Expedition." 


PRISONERS  START  TO 
MATAMORAS 


CHAPTER  X. 


PRISONERS    START    TO    MATAMORAS. 

IT  was  New  Year's  day  and  they  were  marshalled 
into  line  to  start.  The  sun  shone  bright,  and 
although  the  Texans  had  lived  through  so  many  ter 
rible  experiences — the  last  being  their  surrender,  they 
were  more  cheerful  than  might  have  been  expected. 
Relying  upon  the  promises  as  given  by  General  Am- 
pudia,  they  would  soon  be  exchanged,  then  home  to 
wife  and  children. 

The  prisoners  had  attracted  much  attention  from 
the  common  people,  and  the  women  had  shown  them 
many  little  kindnesses,  in  the  way  of  gifts  of  goods. 
Themselves  poor,  they  were  full  of  sympathy  for  the 
ragged  men.  If  they  regarded  them  as  filibusters  or 
brigands,  it  was  a  compliment,  since  none  were  more 
honored  among  the  peasants  than  the  'ladrones'  who 
made  the  roads  of  Mexico  a  path  of  terror  to  the 
wealthy  traveler. 

Don  Domingo  Mericio  was  Italian  by  birth,  but 
had  resided  in  Mier  for  a  long  time.  He  kept  a  little 
inn  that  was  very  popular,  not  only  for  its  excellent 
cuisine,  but  for  his  very  pretty  daughters.  The  fame 
of  their  beauty  and  charm  extended  far  and  wide. 
It  was  in  his  house  that  the  Texans  had  intrenched 
themselves,  the  family  having  fled,  and  its  battered 


168 


The  Boy  Captive 


walls  and  the  bullet  holes  in  the  iron  plates  of  the 
massive  doors  bore  evidence  of  the  fierce  fire  the  Mex 
icans  had  poured  upon  it. 

"Lyon!  There's  the  Alcalde!"  shouted  a  young 
man. 

"By  me  soul!  I  ain't  seen  the  craft  since  he  cut 
his  cable  and  drifted  off  in  the  fog  Christmas  night ! ' ' 
said  Sailing-Master  Lyon- 

"He's  been  hid  out  in  the  chaparral,  Sammy.  He 
was  afraid  General  Green  would  want  to  go  home 
with  him  and  share  his  bed."  Joyful  roars  greeted 
this  sally,  and  the  Alcalde  disappeared,  judging 
rightly  that  he  was  the  cause  of  the  mirth. 

The  little  town  of  Mier  wore  an  appearance  of 
bustle  and  excitement  utterly  foreign  to  her  usual 
sleepy  calm.  Strange  were  the  people  and  their  ways. 
Whatever  business  they  had,  it  was  not  allowed  to 
distract  their  attention  from  the  interesting  spectacle 
of  the  military  and  their  luckless  captives. 

Despite  their  forlorn  condition  the  prisoners  were 


The  Boy  Captive  169 

amused  and  entertained  with  the  many  strange  people 
and  things  that  the  surrounding  country  had  sent  in 
to  see  them  take  their  departure.  Those  towering, 
squeaky,  ponderous  carts,  known  then  as  "Carretas 
de  Rueda  de  Panocha"  (noisy  carts  with  pancake 
wheels),  were  of  especial  interest  to  the  Texans.  The 
wheels  were  made  of  three  pieces  of  timber  morticed 
together,  the  tires  being  of  rawhide.  These  wheels 
were  the  only  ones  known  in  this  section  until  the 
arrival  of  General  Taylor's  army  in  1846.  These 
carts  piled  high  with  corn  and  golden  pumpkins, 
came  groaning  and  creaking  on  their  ponderous 
wheels  filling  the  air  with  discordant  squeaks  and 
shrieks  that  would  have  thrown  an  American  ox  into 
a  panic.  But  these  sleek,  Mexican  bovines  moved  in 
slow,  majestic  calm,  and  when  the  drivers  stopped  in 
order  to  participate  in  the  general  excitement,  and 
the  hideous  noises  ceased,  each  yoke  or  pair  fell  in 
stantly  into  that  sleepy  meditation  that  belongs  to 
the  cud  chewers;  a  natural  proceeding,  since  there 
were  six  or  eight  of  them  to  do  what  an  ordinary 
pair  of  oxen  should  pull  without  any  trouble,  and 
no  yoke  to  tire  their  necks,  for  they  were  fastened 
with  rawhide  thongs  which  were  passed  around  their 
big,  wide-spread  horns  and  attached  them  to  their 
clumsy  load. 

This  was  indeed  a  pitiful  New  Year's  procession 
that  was  ready  to  leave  Mier  and  go  on  to  the  mili 
tary  headquarters  of  General  Ampudia. 


170  The  Boy  Captive 

To  the  ragged  Texans  who  for  five  days  had  been 
closely  confined  in  buildings,  the  return  to  the  fresh 
air  and  the  blue  sky  was  not  unwelcome,  although 
the  long  tramp  through  a  country,  the  abomination 
of  desolation;  but  whatever  they  felt  in  their  hearts, 
no  complaints  crossed  their  lips,  and  the  usual  laugh 
ter  and  merry  gibes  went  on,  as  two  by  two  they 
stood  captive,  ready  to  move  forward  between  the 
files  of  infantry,  who  with  bayonets  set,  guarded 
either  side.  The  cavalry  were  to  protect  the  infantry 
on  the  outside  of  the  columns,  and  with  cavalry  as 
van-guard,  and  rear-guard,  the  unfortunate  Texans 
were  about  to  begin  their  journey  toward  Matamoras. 

Groups  of  men  were  squatted  at  ease  on  the  ground 
watching  with  indolent  interest  the  maneuvers  of 
cavalry  in  their  gay  uniforms;  pretty  girls  and  with 
ered  old  women  passed  on  their  way  to  the  cathedral 
and  gazed  from  out  of  their  rebozos  at  the  busy,  noisy 
crowd. 

Busy  and  noisy  it  was  indeed.  The  vendors  of 
fruit  and  dulces,  tamales,  chile-con-carne  and  other 
edibles,  such  as  guisado,  candied  fruits,  pumpkins, 
pilloncilla,  and  the  inevitable  tortilla,  were  working 
their  way  among  the  throng  calling  their  wares.  The 
officers  were  calling  out  stentorian  orders  to  their 
sandaled  troops.  The  cavalry  made  a  most  musical 
jingling  with  their  silver-mounted  bridles,  their  short 
swords,  and  their  enormous  spurs.  The  beauty  of 
their  horses  was  most  striking,  though,  perhaps,  some 


The  Boy  Captive  171 

of  it  was  due  to  the  splendor  of  their  trappings.  The 
saddles  were  veritable  works  of  art,  the  leather  carv 
ings  being  of  infinite  delicacy  of  design  and  execu 
tion.  The  bridles  and  bits  were  mounted  with  silver 
or  gold,  and  their  huge  spurs,  the  very  acme  of  cru 
elty,  were  gilded  instruments  of  torture.  The  officers 
themselves  were  pleasing  to  look  at,  for  their  uniforms 
were  bright  in  color  and  gay  with  silver  and  gold, 
braid  and  lace,  and  their  hats  filled  the  boys  with 
astonishment;  that  any  man  should  be  willing  to  put 
on  so  strange  a  head-covering  was  a  problem.  Per 
haps  the  Mexicans  may  have  felt  the  same  when  they 
saw  the  coon-skin  caps  that  some  of  the  Texans  wore. 

Our  boy  friends,  however,  were  not  overcome  with 
the  serious  aspect  of  the  situation,  and  their  bright 
eyes  were  quick  to  detect  every  amusing  object. 

Seeing  that  each  officer  had  one  or  more  burros 
for  his  own  individual  effects,  struck  them  as  being 
very  funny.  Observing  that  the  boys  were  watching 
the  loading  of  the  burros  with  keenest  interest,  Cap 
tain  Castro  went  near  to  explain  about  the  peculiari 
ties  of  the  burro. 

He  told  them  that  when  the  arriero  was  ready  to 
start,  that  each  little  mule  knew  his  particular  bur 
den  and  would  always  walk  up  to  it  in  the  morning 
and  wait  patiently  to  be  loaded.  Sometimes  a  new 
comer  would  get  confused  among  so  many  loads,  but 
the  others  always  kicked  it,  if  it  came  near  them  and 
so  it  soon  learned  its  own  burden.  The  meek  little 


172  The  Boy  Captive 

burros  looked  very  ludicrous,  even  to  those  who  pitied 
them  for  their  huge  burdens-  Billie  found  it  amus 
ing  to  try  to  make  an  inventory  of  the  contents  of  one 
load,  but  gave  it  up. 

Captain  Clement  Castro  was  the  commander  of 
the  unfortunate  battery  that  the  boys  had  "taken 
care  of."  It  would  be  impossible  to  analyze  Juan's 
feelings  as  he  came  in  daily  contact  with  this  gallant 
young  Mexican,  who  elicited  admiration  and  affection 
from  all  within  the  radius  of  his  charming  personal 
ity.  Even  General  Green  was  loud  in  the  praises  of 
Captin  Castro;  a  most  flattering  tribute  under  exist 
ing  circumstances,  for  the  General  was  not  in  the 
mood  to  recognize  anything  pleasing  in  Mexico  or  its 
people. 

Captain  Castro  was  outspoken  in  his  admiration 
of  the  boys,  who  had  fought  bravely,  and  never 
seemed  to  feel  resentment  at  the  loss  of  his  men.  If 
Juan  had  known  from  what  class  the  rank  and  file 
of  soldiers  were  drawn  at  that  time  he  would  not  have 
been  so  puzzled  at  the  indifference  to  their  deaths. 
Neither  could  the  democratic  little  American  from 
the  frontier  understand  the  feelings  of  one  who  was 
the  product  of  centuries  of  caste  and  prejudice.  The 
loss  of  life  in  the  Texan  ranks  meant  the  loss  of  a 
friend  or  near  kinsman,  perhaps,  and  in  any  case, 
it  meant  as  much  to  the  officer  as  it  did  to  the  men, 
for  he  was  one  of  their  number,  elevated  to  his  rank 
by  their  vote. 


The  Boy  Captive  173 


"I  bore  a  charmed  life,  my  little  friend,  or  you 
would  have  finished  me  too,"  said  Captain  Castro 
with  a  smile. 

"If  I  had  known  you,"  said  Juan  gravely,  "I 
could  not  have  fought  the  artillery  so  hard  as  I 
did." 

In  those  days  no  such  thing  was  known  as  great, 
towering  ambulances  drawn  by  spirited  mules,  in 
which  the  officers  might  ride  over  this  dreary  stretch 
of  160  miles  to  Matamoras,  but  all,  even  the  great 
generals,  were  mounted  upon  fine,  sleek  horses. 

The  famous  Zapadores  military  band,  still  at  this 
date  one  of  the  grandest  in  Mexico,  accompanied  this 
unfortunate  procession.  At  all  the  towns  through 
which  they  passed  glad  strains  of  martial  music  min 
gled  with  the  enthusiastic  rejoicing  of  the  people. 

General  Ampudia  had  promised  Juan  he  would 
give  his  father  a  horse  to  ride,  and  Juan  had  come 
over  to  the  prison  early  to  assure  himself  that  his 
father  was  really  provided  with  a  horse.  Jeff  was 
still  unable  to  march,  and  he,  with  other  wounded 
men,  was  left  in  the  hospital  under  the  care  of  Dr. 
Sinnickson.  When  their  wounds  would  permit,  they 
were  to  join  their  comrades  at  Matamoras,  where  all 
were  to  be  held  until  released  or  exchanged  for  Mexi 
can  Captives- 

But  all  the  gayety  of  those  brave  men  could  not 
dispel  the  haggardness  of  their  countenances,  the 
raggedness  of  their  clothing  or  the  dilapidation  of 


174  The  Boy  Captive 

their  shoes.  When  Captain  Cameron  and  his  cow 
boys  came  swaying  out  on  their  high-heeled  boots, 
Juan  felt  a  lump  rise  in  his  thoat,  for  he  knew  well 
how  ill-fitted  for  a  long  tramp,  were  those  heels  made 
to  steady  a  man,  when  riding  in  the  stirrup  to  rope  a 
wild  and  angry  steer. 

Captain  Reese  was  looking  pale  and  stern,  for  he 
had  little  faith  in  the  promise  of  General  Ampudia, 
or  any  other  Mexican.  Orlando  greeted  the  boys  with 
a  cheerful  "Hulloa"  that  roused  a  spirit  of  resent 
ment  in  Billie's  breast. 

General  Ampudia  signed  for  Juan  to  ride  beside 
him,  and  the  boys  and  the  Texan  officers  were  as 
signed  to  places  in  the  rear  with  Captain  Castro. 

Between  the  glittering  line  of  bayonets,  unused  to 
walking  and  weak  from  the  confinement  in  close  quar 
ters  and  the  lack  of  regular  exercise,  the  prisoners 
plodded  wearily  on ;  tired  and  thirsty ;  they  could  not 
halt,  for  they  must  reach  Camargo  by  night. 

Perhaps  it  was  not  from  any  real  inhumanity  on 
the  part  of  the  Mexicans.  The  Texans  were  men  who 
laughed  at  danger  and  hardship.  How  were  their 
captors  to  know  their  sufferings  from  tender  feet  used 
to  a  stirrup  and  unaccustomed  to  the  stones  and  sand 
of  a  rough  trail. 

A  sudden  silence  fell  on  all  and  the  tramp  of  many 
feet,  the  beat  of  the  horses'  hoofs,  the  clanking  of  bits 
and  the  jingling  of  spurs,  were  all  the  sounds  on  the 
still  air. 


The  Boy  Captive  175 

The  little  town  of  Mier  was  soon  left  behind,  and 
bare  and  brown  the  country  stretched  away,  until 
the  eye  reached  the  sky  line  and  wandered  over  the 
sapphire  dome  only  to  return  wearily  to  the  desolate 
brown  earth. 

Through  the  bare  hills,  the  road  wound  in  and  out. 
The  only  vegetation  was  the  stunted  clumps  of 
thorny  vines  and  shrubs  that  made  the  dreadful  chap 
arral,  and  the  inevitable  cactus  that  increased  in 
height  as  they  journeyed  toward  the  south.  The 
loose  sand  drifted  in  waves  across  the  road,  if  road 
it  could  be  called,  for  with  every  windstorm,  the  sand 
shifts  its  base,  and  the  traveler  must  seek  a  new  path ; 
nothing  more  wearing  to  a  poor  beast  can  be  found 
than  the  journey  through  the  loose  sand  into  which 
it  sinks  up  to  the  fetlocks.  Mile  after  mile  of  the 
road  passed  beneath  the  hoofs  of  the  horses  and  Juan 
sat  loosely  in  the  saddle,  his  thoughts  turning  to  his 
mother;  to  poor  Jeff,  fever-stricken  and  pain-racked; 
to  his  dear  sisters;  and  then  by  some  strange  caprice 
to  Big  Foot  Wallace,  whom  he  had  seen  that  morn 
ing,  towering  like  Saul  above  his  comrades.  A  smile 
crept  over  his  face-  Again  he  saw  the  swarthy  little 
vendors  of  fruits  and  dulces  pass  up  and  down  the 
line  of  men  calling  their  wares.  He  remembered  he 
had  seen  Big  Foot  look  down  into  the  trays  borne 
upon  their  heads,  and  when  they  passed  he  raised 
his  arm  and  reaching  with  a  long  sweep,  gathered  up  a 
gigantic  handful  and  divided  spoils  with  his  near 
ii 


176 


The  Boy  Captive 


comrades,  while  the  unsuspecting  merchant  went  on 
plaintively  calling  his  wares.  Mexicans  and  Texans 
alike  enjoyed  the  joke  and  watched  eagerly  for  the 
next  victim;  nor  did  their  countrymen  warn  them 
of  the  pilferer. 


Desolation. 

Then  his  mind  dwelt  on  Orlando,  whom  he  loved, 
and  to  his  home  company  headed  by  Captain  East- 
land,  who  was  so  brave  and  quiet.  Face  after  face 
of  the  men  with  whom  he  had  been  sharing  every 
vicissitudes  passed  before  his  mind.  Why  should  he 
have  been  separated  from  them?  There  was  no  an 
swer  to  this  inward  reflection. 

A  stumble  of  his  horse  as  it  struck  a  rough  place 
awoke  General  Ampudia  to  his  surroundings ;  through 
his  half-closed  eyes  he  studied  the  pensive  face  oppo 
site  as  it  stared  from  under  the  broad  brim  of  the 
sombrero.  There  was  a  pathos  in  the  beautiful  dark 
eyes,  in  the  droop  of  the  tender  mouth.  The  half 
slouched  position  of  the  little  figure  that  thought  itself 
unobserved  was  in  itself  a  revelation  of  inward  de- 


The  Boy  Captive  177 

gpair ;  and  so  the  General  read  it. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Juan  had  given  rein  to 
his  feelings  for  he  had  been  bravely  living  up  to  the 
proud  example  of  fortitude  and  cheerfulness  set  by 
his  unfortunate  comrades.  But  the  lonely  road,  the 
isolation  from  his  young  companions,  and  the  drowsi 
ness  of  the  General  had  all  tended  to  throw  him  into 
a  sad  train  of  thought. 

General  Ampudia  felt  his  heart  yearn  toward  the 
little  captive ;  but  a  keen  student  of  human  nature,  he 
had  soon  discovered  that  nothing  could  wound  this 
proud  young  soul  so  deeply  as  to  treat  him  as  a 
child.  He  opened  his  eyes  and  gave  a  loud  yawn. 
As  by  magic  the  young  figure  straightened  in  the 
saddle. 

"The  country  is  barren,  desolate,  tiresome,"  the 
General  smothered  another  yawn. 

"Its  worse  than  coming  down  the  river  on  the 
other  side,"  said  Juan.  "Chaparral  is  bad  to  ride 
through,  but  you  are  sure  to  stay  awake-  On  the 
plains  the  chaparral  isn't  so  thick,  but  riding  through 
the  mesquite  thickets  make  you  think  you're  going 
through  a  peach  orchard,"  continued  he.  "Prickly 
pear's  as  thick  as  it  is  on  the  Texas  side  of  the  river, 
can't  see  any  good  it  can  be  to  any  living  thing." 

"Here,"  said  the  General,  "the  cattle  eat  it,  but  it 
is  first  thrown  into  the  fire  and  the  thorns  burned  off 
— after  that  the  cattle  keep  fat  on  it.  What  would 
you  be  doing  if  you  were  at  home?" 


178  The  Boy  Captive 

"I  guess  I'd  hunt,  work  on  the  farm,  ride  after 
cattle,  might  go  to  school  a  little — not  any  schools 
in  the  Republic  yet — father  says  it'll  be  a  long  time 
before  there'll  be  schools  or  colleges  there — I  never 
thought  much  about  an  education  till  we  got  to  San 
Antonio.  We  camped  at  Mission  Concepcion.  There 
were  some  words  over  the  door.  I  did  not  know  what 

they  meant,  and  I  tried  to  find  out "  a  dreamy 

look  stole  in  his  eyes,  and  he  relapsed  into  silence. 

"Did  you  find  out  the  meaning?" 

' '  Oh,  yes ;  among  our  men  there  were  plenty  to  tell 
me.  There  were  men  that  had  graduated  at  Harvard, 
Yale  and  the  University  of  Virginia;  there  were  sev 
eral  from  Oxford,  that  is  in  England  you  know.  The 
Germans,  they  know  most  everything.  Lots  of  the 
men  don't  like  them,  but  I  think  they  were  awful 
nice.  Heaps  of  them  knew."  Juan  heaved  a  little 
sigh.  In  spite  of  all  the  sadness,  he  had  rather  a 
pleasant  time.  General  Ampudia's  generosity  had 
given  him  many  hitherto  unknown  pleasures,  and 
being  a  healthy,  normal  youth,  he  did  not  waste  his 
time,  in  vain  regrets  over  what  could  not  be  helped. 
He  knew  that  his  father  had  one  of  these  nice  blank 
ets,  and  a  horse  to  ride,  and  he  felt  quite  cheerful 
only  that  he  knew  Jeff  must  stay  behind.  The  thought 
grieved  him  very  much  for  he  might  never  see  him 
again. 

They  halted  at  a  hacienda  (farm)  for  their  noon 
day  rest.  It  was  the  usual  collection  of  adobe  houses 


The  Boy  Captive  179 


all  built  around  a  hollow  square.  The  big  double 
doors  were  always  kept  closed,  but  there  was  a  porter 
who  watched  it  by  day  and  locked  and  barred  it  at 
night;  thus  rendering  the  house  within,  secure  from 
wild  beasts  and  the  dreaded  ladrones.  There  was  a 
small  stream  of  water  that  flowed  through  the  ha 
cienda,  and  over  it  the  cottonwood  trees  and  the  ever 
graceful  retama  and  mesquite  cast  a  pleasant  shade. 
Very  tall  and  beautiful  they  seemed  over  the  low 
mud  roofs  of  the  hacienda. 

One  of  the  strangest  sights  the  boys  noticed  in  this 
hacienda  was  two  men  drawing  water  from  a  well. 

A  rope,  as  long  as  the  well  was  deep,  was  fastened 
about  one  man's  waist;  this  was  suspended  to  a  pul 
ley  and  then  the  bucket  of  water  was  raised  by  the 
man  running  the  length  of  the  rope,  when  the  other 
emptied  the  water  into  a  reservoir  for  that  purpose. 
They  were  told  that  for  six  months  each  year  cattle 
were  watered  in  this  way. 


AT 
CAMARGO 


CHAPTER  XI. 


AT    CAMARGO. 

THE  Texan  officers  and  the  boys  were  lodged 
at  Don  Trinidad's,  a  popular  hotel  of  the 
town,  and  could  find  no  fault  with  their  treat 
ment.  The  house  was  the  usual  type  of  the  well-to-do 
Mexican's  residence.  The  rear  of  the  house  opened 
on  a  beautiful  garden  and  orchard  and  the  boys  en 
joyed  the  fine  orange  trees  very  much.  A  mozo 
brought  them  chocolate  and  milk  and  some  nice  rolls 
before  they  were  out  of  bed. 

' '  I  feel  like  I  was  home ! ' '  said  Billie  with  a  benign 
ant  smile.  "Orlando  would  turn  green  if  he  could 
see  this.  I  heard  him  say  he  wished  he  could  wake 
up  in  the  morning  and  see  his  darkey  bringing  him 
his  coffee. 

Soon  after,  in  company  with  Captain  Castro,  the 
boys  went  for  a  stroll  about  the  little  town-  It  was  a 
pleasant  place,  and  they  would  have  enjoyed  it 
very  much,  indeed,  under  different  circumstances. 
The  streets  were  full  of  people,  and  Juan,  remember 
ing  that  it  was  New  Year,  thought  perhaps  they  were 
going  to  celebrate  the  holiday  with  some  especial  fes 
tivities. 

As  they  neared  the  plaza,  a  sound  of  cheering  was 
heard  down  one  of  the  streets  that  led  to  the  river. 
Juan  saw  Captain  Castro  stop,  half  turn,  and  give 


182  The  Boy  Captive 

a  puzzled,  hesitating  glance  at  General  Green;  then 
he  seemed  to  be  asking  a  question  which  was  inaudible 

to  Juan,  but  the  answer  he  heard "Certainly 

not!     We  wish  to  see  everything!"     General  Green 
threw  his  shoulders  back  and  carried  his  head  high. 

"General  Green  has  got  a  chip  on  his  shoulder!" 
said  the  sharp-eyed  Billie.  "Let's  step  up  and  see 
if  anybody  dast  knock  it  off!" 

"It  ain't  much  to  have  a  chip  on  your  shoulder 
when  you  aint  got  your  gun  with  you ! ' '  said  Harvey 
with  a  grin,  but  before  the  boys  could  get  near  enough 
to  hear  the  General,  the  appearance  of  a  mob  of 
children,  leaping  and  dancing  in  great  glee  at  the 
head  of  a  procession,  diverted  their  attention. 

High  above  the  heads  of  the  shouting,  grimacing 
throngs  they  saw  a  long  motto  stretched  between  two 
poles  carried  by  young  men. 

On  it  was  printed  in  large  letters 

"GLORIA  Y  GRATITUD  al  BRAVO 
CANALES!" 

A  little  farther  back  was  still  another 

"ETERNAL  HONOR  al  IMMORTAL 
AMPUDIA!" 

The  boys  needed  no  interpreter  for  these  obnoxious 
mottoes. 

Crowds  of  people  were  filling  up  on  either  side. 
Fire-crackers  were  popping,  the  bells  of  the  cathedral 
were  ringing  gaily,  the  band  was  playing  martial 
music,  and  "vivas!"  rent  the  air  for  the  triumphant 


The  Boy  Captive  183 

Mexican  Generals.  It  was  a  great  day  for  Camargo. 
They  had  had  sufficient  time  to  notify  the  country 
that  a  feria  would  be  held  in  honor  of  the  great  vic 
tory  at  Mier.  The  good  padres  took  much  care  to 
provide  amusement  for  their  flocks,  and  this  was 
merely  the  preliminary  to  a  general  jollification. 
Feasting,  drinking,  gambling,  dancing,  cock-fighting, 
horse-racing,  and  many  other  amusements,  would  be 
carried  on  for  two  or  three  days. 

Silent  and  stoical,  the  Texans  marched  between 
their  guards  around  the  open  plaza,  mid  the  ringing 
of  bells,  firing  of  an  old  anvil  instead  of  a  cannon, 
and  the  popping  of  crackers,  while  the  dogs  barked 
and  yelped  hysterically  at  the  unwonted  excitement, 
and  the  people  laughed  and  screamed  and  cheered, 
wild  with  enthusiasm. 

But,  though  the  crowd  was  noisy,  they  did  not  try 
to  insult  or  hurt  the  captives,  and,  when  the  latter 
were  safely  lodged  in  the  three  buildings  allotted  to 
their  use,  they  dispersed  good  naturedly  to  the  many 
diversions  awaiting  them. 

The  boys  no  longer  cared  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
privileges  of  parole,  and,  retracing  their  steps  to 
Don  Trinidad's,  took  refuge  in  the  privacy  of  the 
garden-  They  had  no  desire  to  participate  in  festi 
vities  based  on  their  own  humiliation.  Billie  and 
Harvey  talked  vigorously  out  under  the  orange  trees. 
Whenever  they  paused,  Gilbert  started  them  afresh 


184  The  Boy  Captive 

by  recalling  to  mind  some  detail  of  the  procession 
particularly  galling. 

Juan  sat  silent  wondering  what  would  happen  next, 
a  human  paradox.  To  the  eye  he  presented  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  high  born  young  Mexican  on  whom 
Dame  fortune  had  lavished  her  choicest  gifts;  when 
in  reality  he  was  a  fierce  young  Texan,  ready  that 
minute  to  join  his  comrades  in  a  desperate  break  for 
liberty. 

But  it  is  a  strange  fact  that  eating  has  a  soothing 
effect  on  the  normal  mind  and  as  the  boys  munched 
the  good  oranges,  the  luscious  juices  acted  as  a 
quieting  potion  and  reluctantly  to  themselves  they 
admitted  that,  perhaps  it  might  be  only  a  natur 
al  thing  to  rejoice  over  the  capture  of  an  enemy  and 
the  people  did  not  know  how  it  was  done  any  way ;  so 
when  a  good  old  woman  brought  them  some  little  cakes 
and  sweets,  they  smiled  on  her  like  the  real  nice  boys 
that  they  were,  instead  of  scowling  like  vanquished 
warriors ;  and  she  smiled  amiably  back  at  them.  Her 
long,  black  hair  fell  in  neat  braids  over  her  bare 
brown  shoulders,  from  which  the  rebozo  kept  slipping 
in  a  careless  fashion ;  and  they  soon  grew  used  to  the 
sight  of  bare  legs  beneath  the  short  skirts,  nor  did 
they  notice  the  little  children  of  either  sex,  nude 
or  only  with  one  garment,  so  quickly  does  one  be 
come  used  to  customs. 

The  next  day  the  march  was  resumed  in  much  the 
same  order  as  when  they  left  Mier.  Juan  had  only 


The  Boy  Captive  185 

a  few  minutes  each  day  with  his  father,  Mr.  Hill  be 
ing  with  the  prisoners,  although  he  was  mounted  and 
rode  with  the  cavalry. 

It  was  a  bitter  humiliation  for  the  Texas  prisoners 
to  tramp  between  the  cheering  masses  of  the  streets 
of  Camargo.  But  it  was  an  experience  that  grew 
familiar  as  it  was  repeated  at  every  town  through 
which  they  passed  on  their  way  to  Matamoras. 

General  Ampudia  rode  at  the  head  of  the  staff 
with  his  boy  captive  by  his  side,  and  they  made  a 
fine  appearance  with  the  showy,  handsome  uniforms 
they  wore.  The  General  bowed  gracefully  to  the 
people  in  acknowledgement  of  their  "vivas,"  and 
smiled  genially  on  the  crowd.  The  sight  was  galling 
to  General  Green,  who  had  vehemently  opposed  the 
surrender  at  Mier.  As  for  Colonel  Fisher,  he  had 
not  only  to  suffer  this  humiliation,  but  he  also  knew 
how  bitterly  many  of  the  officers  and  men  felt  toward 
him.  He  was  now  in  a  position  to  appreciate  General 
Sommervelle 's  dilemma.  It  sometimes  takes  more 
courage  to  carry  out  disagreeable  commands  in  the 
face  of  popular  opinion  than  to  charge  an  enemy. 
Let  him  who  covets  the  glory  of  leading,  count  first 
the  pains  of  disaster;  then  if  his  desire  still  remains, 
he  is  truly  a  great  man- 
Both  General  Sommervelle  and  Colonel  Fisher  did 
what  they  conceived  to  be  their  duty.  Each  had 
ardent  adherants,  and  each  had  active  opponents. 
Both  were  honorable,  brave  men. 


186  The  Boy  Captive 

While  officers  and  men  felt  the  indignity  of  their 
position,  yet  they  managed  to  conceal  their  feelings 
under  a  sullen  composure;  but  Billie  swelled  with 
rage  and  mortification  and  kept  poor  Harvey  and 
Gilbert  in  an  agony  of  apprehension  for  fear  he  would 
be  over-heard  and  sent  back  with  the  prisoners. 
Only  the  stern  silence  of  the  Texan  Commanders 
kept  him  within  bounds. 

Poor  Juan  found  himself  in  a  strange  predica 
ment.  Sorrow,  shame,  and  rage  alternately  rose  with 
in  him  and  in  his  struggle  to  maintain  his  composure 
he  stared  moodily  ahead,  looking  neither  to  the  right 
nor  to  the  left.  The  cries  of  the  people  were  unin 
telligible  to  him  ,save  that  he  knew  they  were  cheer 
ing  General  Ampudia,  and  he  attributed  the  smiles 
and  covert  glances  of  the  officers  of  the  staff  toward 
himself  to  their  desire  to  see  how  he  bore  the  ordeal. 
His  handsome  face  with  its  proud,  firm  mouth,  his 
dark  eyes  eloquent  as  their  own,  his  ease  and  grace 
in  the  saddle,  his  seeming  indifference  to  their  hearty 
cheers,  all  convinced  the  people  that  the  handsome 
little  caballero  was  General  Ampudia 's  own  son:  and 
the  General  was  not  displeased.  He  thought  of  his 
own  beloved  son  whose  life  passed  out  at  Mier.  Per 
haps  it  strengthened  the  growing  desire  to  benefit 
this  little  captive.  Luckily  no  one  enlightened  Juan 
as  to  his  part  in  the  ovation  until  Camargo  was  far 
behind. 

The  prisoners  moved  very  slowly.     Their  feet  were 


The  Boy  Captive  187 


much  swollen  from  the  march  from  Mier.  It  is  said 
that  a  native  Texan  will  chase  a  horse  five  miles  in 
order  to  saddle  him  for  a  ride  of  half  a  mile.  Al 
though  this  may  be  an  exaggeration,  it  is  not  far 
from  true ;  it  should  be  said  that  they  always  keep  one 
horse  saddled  for  emergencies.  At  the  end  of  ten 
miles  it  became  evident  that  the  prisoners  were  unable 
to  make  the  usual  march,  so  they  were  quartered 
at  a  ranch,  and  as  there  were  no  buildings  large 
enough  to  house  so  many  men,  they  were  turned 
loose  in  a  corral  (cow  pen)  a  large  yard  enclosed 
by  high  and  thick  pickets  of  timber  whose  lower  ends 
were  set  deep  in  the  ground  while  the  upper  extrem 
ities  were  bound  by  rawhide  strips  to  horizontal  tim 
bers.  Disgusting  as  this  was,  there  were  many  of  the 
young  Texans  who  bravely  looked  on  the  humorous 
side  of  it.  They  dropped  on  all  fours  and  pawed 
the  earth  and  bellowed  like  bulls.  Cows  lowed  and 
calves  bleated  for  refreshments.  The  poor  Mexican 
soldiers  on  guard  were  first  amazed,  then  frightened 
at  the  strange  antics  of  their  charges.  They  thought 
the  prisoners  had  gone  mad;  but  when  the  meaning 
of  the  performance  dawned  upon  them  they  laughed 
so  heartily  that  the  Texans  would  have  found  it  an 
easy  matter  to  have  overpowered  them  and  made 
their  escape;  however,  the  opportunity  passed  and 
the  poor  boys  had  to  make  the  best  of  the  filth  and 
vermin  incidental  to  such  a  place. 

All  along  the  weary  march  the  Texans  were  quar- 


188 


The  Boy  Captive 


tered  in  these  sheep  or  cattle  corrals.  General 
Thomas  Jefferson  Green  kept  his  diary  of  events  and 
records  with  a  smile  and  a  tear,  and  sometimes  an 
oath,  their  varying  fortunes  and  their  unvarying  for 
titude. 

War  is  always  horrible  and  one  cannot  expect  to 
find  the  captive  enemy  lodged  in  luxury  or  exempt 
from  hardships.  That  Juan  C.  C.  Hill  was  a  singular 
exception  to  the  rule,  is  what  makes  this  true  tale  like 
fiction. 

Riding  with  the  General  and  his  escort,  he  could 
but  admire  the  courtly  manner  of  the  Mexican  officers, 
nor  could  he  resist  their  genial  ways.  Some  of  them 
could  speak  a  little  English  and  he  found  himself  ac 
quiring  some  every-day  Spanish  with  a  quickness 
that  delighted  the  warm-hearted  Captain  Castro. 

It  was  at  Reynosa  that  the  boys  forgot  their  cha 
grin,  although  the  preparations  to  greet  the  victor 
ious  army  were  unique  as  well  as  extensive.  There 


A  Cattle  Corral. 


The  Boy  Captive  189 


were  many  triumphal  arches  made  of  reeds  bound  to 
gether,  and  poverty  or  simplicity  had  decorated  them 
with  gayly  colored  handkerchiefs,  shawls  and  even 
bright  colored  petticoats  had  been  pressed  into  this 
unusual  service.  Appropriate  mottoes  were  suspend 
ed  from  these  arches;  but  that  which  filled  the  boys 
with  amusement  and  made  even  the  footsore  prison 
ers  laugh,  were  the  fantastic  demonstrations  of  the 
Careese  Indians.  General  Green  wrote  of  it  in  his 
journal  and  the  description  is  so  excellent  that  it  is 
literally  quoted: 

"  *  *  *  Just  as  we  entered  town,  riding  in 
company  with  General  Ampudia  and  staff,  the  war 
riors  of  the  Careese  tribe  of  Indians,  naked,  with  the 
exception  of  the  breech-clout  and  painted  after  their 
war  fashion,  suddenly  popped  into  our  path,  at  the 
same  time  giving  the  warwhoop,  and  firing  their  guns 
in  our  faces.  Then  suddenly  wheeling  off  to  reload, 
the  same  maneuvers  were  repeated  several  times. 
This  excited  mirth  rather  than  surprise,  and  was  fol 
lowed  by  something  more  ridiculous  still!  About 
twenty  little  boys  between  the  ages  of  ten  and  fifteen, 
were  led  by  a  little  old  man  of  sixty,  who  was  no 
larger  than  a  boy  of  twelve  years  old,  all  most  fan 
tastically  dressed  with  different  colored  handker 
chiefs  and  ribbons  fixed  about  them,  with  small  mir 
rors  fastened  upon  their  heads  so  as  to  form  an  obe 
lisk  of  four  sides.  Each  held  in  his  hand  a  long 
handled  gourd,  decorated  with  blue  and  yellow  paper, 


190  The  Boy  Captive 

with  small  gravel  inside.  They  were  attended  by 
several  fiddlers  and  suddenly  appeared  before  us, 
led  by  their  old  leader,  dancing  in  regular  time  to  the 
music,  first  upon  one  foot  and  then  upon  the  other. 
They  so  contrived  that  while  one  foot  was  hopping 
to  the  music,  the  other  was  shaking  to  it,  and  the 
long-handled  gourd  and  pebbles  of  each  kept  good 
time  with  the  fiddlers  and  the  motion  of  the  little  old 
man. 

He  would  lead  his  little  band  close  to  our  horses' 
heads,  and  as  we  advanced,  by  motion  of  his  arms, 
his  double  file  of  juveniles  would  wheel  to  right  and 
left,  precede  us  thirty  or  forty  yards,  and  perform 
the  same  maneuvers  over,  always  keeping  time,  in  step 
and  motion.  Thus  were  we  danced  to  our  quarters 
about  half  a  mile." 

The  amusement  caused  by  these  unique  manifesta 
tions  of  joy  was  shortlived  with  General  Green  if  not 
with  the  other  Texans.  Much  to  his  disgust  they 
were  all  taken  to  mass  at  the  cathedral,  and  this  cus 
tom  was  faithfully  observed  at  every  cathedral  town 
on  their  line  of  march. 

There  was  very  little  religious  toleration  at  the  date 
of  this  story,  and  the  antagonism  that  raged  between 
the  Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants  was  deep-root 
ed  in  hereditary  prejudice. 

Juan  came  of  a  family  whose  religious  convictions 
were  fervent  and  genuine.  Yet  he  could  but  respect 
the  evident  sincerity  of  the  Mexicans,  who  knelt  to 


The  Boy  Captive 


191 


the  Holy  Mother  and  implored  her  beneficent  approv 
al  and  protection. 


12 


ARRIVAL 
AT  MATAMORAS 


CHAPTER  XII. 


ARRIVAL  AT  MATAMORAS. 

LONG  before      General  Ampudia  and  General 
Canales    reached    Matamoras,    they    were 
met  by     coaches     filled    with     enthusiastic 
friends  and  admirers  anxious  to  be  the  first  to  con 
gratulate  the  returning  victors.     Happy  wives  and 
sweethearts,  too,  hastened  to  greet  their  loved  ones 
for  a  large  proportion  of  the  soldiers  were  from  Mat 
amoras. 

Alas!  the  victory  of  the  Mexicans  had  cost  them 


Headquarters  of  General  Ampudla  at  Matamoras. 


194  The  Boy  Captive 


dear,  for  hundreds  of  men  had  lost  their  lives 
that  fatal  Christmas  night  and  the  day  following- 
Many  a  woman  wept  out  her  heart's  sorrow  before 
the  crucifix  that  night,  that  had  thought  to  tread  the 
gay  fandango  with  her  hero. 

Matamoras  is  some  thirty  miles  from  the  mouth 
of  the  Rio  Grande  and  being  on  the  border  of  Mexico 
and  Texas,  was  a  military  station.  The  city  present 
ed  a  bright  and  bustling  scene  with  its  elaborate 
gala  day  dress  of  flags,  streamers  and  garlands. 
Numerous  triumphal  arches  spanned  the  streets 
through  which  General  Ampudia  and  General  Can- 
ales  passed.  Long  lines  of  military  drawn  up  on 
either  side  of  the  road,  and,  as  the  columns  of  the 
returning  troops  with  their  ragged  captives  passed 
on  their  way  to  the  cathedral  to  attend  high  mass, 
they  in  turn  fell  in  ranks  behind  the  victorious  army, 
thus  making  quite  an  impressive  procession. 

After  the  mass,  the  two  Texan  leaders,  their  aides 
and  the  four  boys  were  taken  by  Captain  Castro  to 
General  Ampudia 's  headquarters;  but  the  main  body 
of  the  prisoners  were  paraded  through  the  principal 
streets  in  order  that  the  populace  might  appreciate 
the  large  number  of  captives  taken  at  Mier. 

As  the  boys  rode  to  their  quarters  they  could  hear 
the  huzzas  of  the  people;  could  see  the  lovely  women 
waving  their  snowy  handkerchiefs  and  fans  at  the 
elegant  officers  on  their  proud  stepping  horses,  who 
with  easy  grace  sat  in  their  beautiful  saddles,  the 


The  Boy  Captive  195 


very  personification  of  romance  and  chivalry,  sweep 
ing  courtly  acknowledgements  with  their  hats  to  the 
plaudits  of  their  admirers.  Poor,  poor  Texans ! 

That  night  a  great  ball  was  given  which  all  of  the 
Mexican  officers  with  General  Ampudia  attended,  and 
so  a  strange  officer  had  charge  of  the  Texans.  About 
half -past  nine  a  detachment  of  soldiers  came  to 
General  Ampudia 's  headquarters  and  took  General 
Green,  Colonel  Fisher  and  their  aides,  Murray  and 
Lyon,  and  hurried  them  away  to  an  empty  room  in 
an  old  barrack,  there  locked  them  up  securely,  and 
placed  a  guard  over  them.  This  was  an  outrage  for 
these  officers  were  on  parole. 

Filled  with  wrath  at  the  wanton  violation  of  their 
privileges,  General  Green  managed  to  write  a  note 
of  remonstrance  to  General  Ampudia  at  this  uncall 
ed  for  outrage  and  unkind  violation  of  their  terms 
of  surrender. 

Some  hours  later  they  were  released  and  carried 
back  to  their  original  quarters.  It  was  an  eventful 
night. 

In  the  gayly  decorated  ballroom  the  myriad  wax 
candles  of  the  immense  chandeliers  threw  radiance 
over  a  lovely  scene.  Light,  love  and  laughter,  the  fra 
grance  of  flowers;  sparkling  eyes  more  bril 
liant  than  the  jewels  on  the  raven  hair  and  more 
dangerous  than  the  Texans'  rifles.  The  officers  re 
turned  the  battery  with  fiery  glances  fully  as  danger 
ous  to  the  fair  foe,  and  the  brave  civilians  in  their 


196  The  Boy  Captive 

evening  costumes  of  black  set  off  the  gorgeous  bou 
quet  of  lovely  dresses  and  bright  uniforms. 

Stately  and  calm  and  beautiful  the  highbred  dames 
sat  and  watched  their  lovely  daughters,  exchange 
confidences  behind  their  fpns,  or  chatted  graciously 
with  the  gentlemen  who  hovered  near-  The  dainty 
satin  slippers  of  the  senoritas  tripped  in  unison  with 
the  dancing  pumps  of  their  partners  as  the  languor 
ous  witching  music  of  the  Mexican  band  filled  the 
air  with  its  intoxicating  sweetness.  Paderewski  says 
there  are  two  races  born  musicians:  The  Gypsy  and 
the  Pole.  All  others  have  acquired  their  music. 
Paderewski  should  have  made  it  three :  the  Mexicans. 

Conspicuous  among  the  gay  throng  was  General 
Ampudia.  A  Polish  gentleman  of  patrician  decent, 
his  smiling  face  and  gay  demeanor  gave  little  token 
of  the  storm  that  must  have  raged  within.  His  or 
ders  awaited  him  on  arrival  at  Llatamoras.  They 
were  briefly  summed  up  in  the  following:  "All 
Texan  prisoners  captured  at  Mier  to  be  forwarded 
immediately,  via.  Monterey  to  the  City  of  Mexico. 
The  Texan  leaders  to  be  sent  in  advance  as  hostages 
for  the  good  behavior  of  the  men." 

Meanwhile  only  a  few  blocks  away  were  the  un 
happy  causes  for  all  this  gayety.  The  tired  men 
were  glad  their  long  march  was  over.  But  they  were 
hungry,  for  although  they  were  furnished  food,  it 
was  not  the  kind  to  which  they  had  been  accustomed 
and  did  not  seem  to  satisfy  their  hunger.  Their 


The  Boy  Captive  197 

anxiety  about  their  homes  as  well  as  the  uncertainty 
of  their  own  futures,  gave  them  plenty  to  think 
about.  The  Texas  soldiers  were  many  of  them  land 
holders,  not  a  few  of  them  had  many  slaves,  all  of 
them  regarded  themselves  as  the  peers  of  any  in  their 
country,  and  they  could  not  understand  this  petty 
pilfering. 


The  prison  they  were  in  was  very  dark,  for  there 
was  only  one  window  with  heavy  iron  bars.  The  great 
door  was  locked  and  barred  and  outside  two  sentinels 
shuffled  slowly  back  and  forth  in  their  sandaled  feet 
at  intervals  calling  the  hated  'Centinela  alerta!" 

The  Texans  had  been  divided  in  three  sections  and 
were  quartered  in  different  prisons;  in  the  inky 
darkness  of  their  cells,  with  nothing  but  the  floor  for 
a  couch,  they  planned  to  make  their  escape ;  for  these 


198  The  Boy  Captive 

men  were  not  on  their  parole  like  their  officers- 
Many  of  the  men  understood  Spanish  and  they  had 
already  gleaned  enough  information  to  feel  sure  that 
they  were  not  to  remain  at  Matamoras,  but  were  to 
be  taken  somewhere  in  the  interior. 

"They  know  they  can't  keep  us  here,"  said  one  of 
the  men,  "It's  too  near  home  and  besides  there  are 
too  many  Americans  here.  Boys,  we  ought  never  to 
have  surrendered.  It  was  a  mistake.  We  must 
break  loose  before  they  carry  us  away  from  the  bor 
der.  Here  we  have  friends  and  can  easily  get  over 
the  Rio  Grande  into  our  own  country.  How  many 
are  for  trying  it  ? " 

Some  of  them,  while  more  than  willing  to  make 
the  attempt,  were  held  back  by  fear  that  the  lives  of 
General  Green  and  Colonel  Fisher  would  be  for 
feited.  Long  and  late  did  the  discussion  last  and  no 
definite  plan  or  decision  was  reached. 

Through  the  window  came  the  sound  of  singing;  a 
group  of  soldiers  off  duty  were  carrying  a  part-song, 
and  their  voices  blended  sweetly  and  harmoniously. 
It  was  only  a  little  catch  or  glee  in  praise  of  Santa 
Anna.  The  prisoners  had  often  heard  it  sung  before 
but  tonight  it  had  a  joyousness  that  struck  with  pain 
ful  intensity  on  their  aching  hearts  and  they  sank 
into  silence  but  not  into  slumber.  There  were  too 
many  fleas  for  that. 

Singing  voices,  violin  and  guitar  were  wafted  on 
the  strong  Gulf  breeze  that  blew  in  the  open  window 


The  Boy  Captive  199 


of  Juan's  sleeping  apartment.  The  streets  were 
bright  from  lighted  houses  and  noisy  with  footfalls  of 
pedestrians,  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  rolling  wheels. 
Firecrackers  were  popping  and  rockets  shot  like  fiery 
serpents  across  the  night  sky  and  mimic  constella 
tions  burst  frequently  into  brief  splendor,  then  van 
ished,  to  be  succeeded  by  other  beauties  equally 
brilliant  and  as  evanescent. 

Across  the  street  they  could  see  into  the  gambling 
saloon  evidently  run  by  an  American-  The  floor 
was  covered  with  sawdust  and  nail  kegs  served  for 
seats,  but  the  long  counter  behind  which  a  glittering 
array  of  bottles  and  glasses  lined  bravely  up  on 
either  side  of  a  mirror,  gave  a  specious  brillancy  to 
the  scene.  From  the  ceiling  hung  a  make-believe 
chandelier  constructed  with  barrel  hoops  and  wire 
and  thickly  set  with  tallow  candles.  Under  this,  faro, 
monte,  chuck-a-luck  and  roulette  rivaled  each  other 
and  the  row  of  gambling  tables  never  lacked  a  circle 
of  intense,  swarthy  faces,  as  well  as  the  paler  Anglo- 
Saxon. 

The  odor  of  tobacco  and  the  scent  of  liquor  taint 
ed  the  pure  breeze.  Juan  watched  the  strange  and 
fascinating  scene  until  his  weary  eyelids  refused  him 
further  vision  and  he  slept. 

Day  dawned.  The  gambling  soldier  thrust  his 
hands  into  empty  pockets  for  coin  to  buy  his  break 
fast,  then  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  drawing  out  his 
empty  hands,  rolled  him  a  cigarette,  and,  with  blood- 


200  The  Boy  Captive 

shot  eyes  but  contented  mind,  reported  for  duty. 
Women  with  black  rebozos  slipped  quietly  to  early 
mass;  some  of  the  faces  were  tear  stained  and  hag 
gard;  others  were  wan  from  the  night's  dissipation. 
The  peddlers  and  laborers  began  their  daily  avoca 
tions.  The  priest  in  his  long,  black  robe  and  the 
American  in  his  frock  coat  each  hastened  to  their 
respective  shrine.  Alas!  It  was  often  a  very  poor 
specimen  of  our  countrymen,  who  came  to  the  fron 
tier  towns  of  Mexico  and  Texas,  to  prey  on  the  vices 
or  weaknesses  of  the  young  men  seeking  fortunes  in 
these  new  fields.  The  weary  sentinel  gladly  gave 
place  to  his  fresh  comrades  and  hastened  joyfully  off 
to  his  breakfast,  and  if  fortune  favored  him,  to  make 
good  the  lost  opportunity  of  night,  by  a  cock-fight,  or 
some  other  gambling  device. 

The  prisoners  woke  but  half  refreshed  and  longing 
for  a  square  American  breakfast  without  any  red 
pepper. 

The  Texan  officers  were  already  receiving  visits 
from  sympathizing  Americans,  and  promises  of 
money  and  little  comforts  made  the  morning  seem 
brighter  than  any  since  the  battle  of  Mier. 

Alas!  that  General  Ampudia  should,  with  his  apo 
logies  for  the  unpleasant  episode  of  the  preceding 
evening,  be  compelled  to  dispel  the  cheerfulness  with 
the  bad  news  of  Santa  Anna's  command-  A  direct 
and  flagrant  violation  of  the  terms  of  capitulation 
drawn  up  at  Mier. 


The  Boy  Captive  201 


No  blame  should  be  attached  to  General  Ampudia 
for  this  breach  of  faith.  Rumor  had  reached  Santa 
Anna  of  Ampudia 's  clemency  toward  the  Texan 
prisoners ;  and  jealous  of  his  own  prerogatives,  ' '  The 
Napoleon  of  the  West,"  as  he  styled  himself,  assert 
ed  his  supremacy  by  disregarding  the  agreement  of 
his  general  to  hold  the  prisoners  on  the  border  until 
exchanged  or  released. 

On  the  12th  of  January,  1843,  Colonel  Fisher, 
General  Green,  Adjutant  Murry,  Sailing  Master 
Lyon,  Dr.  Shepard,  and  the  gay  and  genial  Dan 
Henrie,  who  served  as  their  interpreter,  all  set  forth 
on  their  journey  to  the  Mexican  capital  under  the 
care  of  General  Canales  (whom  General  Green 
heartily  disliked  as  much  as  he  admired  Captain 
Castro).  General  Green,  declared  Sailing  Master 
Lyon  to  be  his  body-servant  and  he  was  enabled  to 
keep  this  old  friend  with  him,  thus  saving  him  many 
of  the  hardships  he  would  have  had  if  he  had  re 
mained  with  the  main  body  of  prisoners.  Dan  Hen 
rie  had  served  in  the  United  States  navy,  had  seen 
many  parts  of  the  world,  was  a  grand  forager,  always 
happy,  could  speak  a  little  of  several  languages,  and 
was  a  delightful  acquisition  to  the  party  of  men  in 
the  very  unpleasant  situation  they  were  facing. 

Two  days  later,  poor  Juan  saw  his  father  go  out 
of  Matamoras  with  his  unfortunate  comrades,  and 
it  was  with  a  heavy  heart  that  he  saw  the  double  file 


202  The  Boy  Captive 

of  prisoners,  Billie,  Harvey  and  Gilbert  as  well  as 
his  loved  friend,  Orlando  Phelps. 

As  Asa  Hill  walked  slowly  with  his  fellow  captives 
on  the  road  to  unknown  dungeons,  perhaps  the  one 
drop  of  sweet  into  the  cup  of  bitterness  was  that  Juan 
would  be  spared  the  horrors  of  prison  life.  General 
Ampudia  had,  with  Mr.  Hill's  consent,  placed  Juan 
at  the  best  school  in  Matamoras;  and  to  insure  him 
kindly  and  courteous  treatment,  he  was  registered  as 
Juan  C.  C.  Hill  de  Ampudia.  Thus  as  the  adopted 
son  of  an  illustrious  and  powerful  man,  he  reaped  all 
the  pleasures  and  benefits  incidental  to  such  a  posi 
tion.  But  Juan  had  that  magnetism  born  of  a  heart 
full  of  kindness  and  a  soul  full  of  truth  and  these 
qualities  assure  friends  independently  of  wealth  or 
position- 
He  enjoyed  much  freedom  in  roaming  over  the 
town,  and  to  the  country  boy  it  was  full  of  interest 
ing  sights  and  happenings.  Like  all  frontier  towns, 
it  possessed  a  mongrel  population  and  the  shabby 
frame  house  of  the  American  jostled  elbows  with  the 
squat  building  the  Mexican  delights  in. 

It  was  in  the  distinctively  Mexican  quarters  that 
Juan  found  it  most  interesting,  for  here  all  was 
Btrange  as  in  a  foreign  land.  The  houses  were  most 
ly  unpretentious,  flat-roofed  buildings  of  brick  stuc 
coed  with  white  or  yellow;  one  door  and  an  iron-bar 
red  window  in  front  on  the  street.  These  houses 
were  built  around  a  square  so  as  to  enclose  a  large 


The  Boy  Captive  203 

courtyard  which  was  the  common  property  of  all. 
Through  a  large  double  doorway,  the  arrieros  drove 
their  loaded  charges  and  having  relieved  them  of 
their  burdens,  the  burros  would  be  turned  into  a 
smaller  yard,  where  food  and  water  was  provided. 
In  the  center  of  the  main  yard  numerous  stalls  dis 
played  all  the  necessities,  and  many  of  the  luxuries 
the  common  people  used. 

Sometimes  Juan  would  rise  early  and  stroll 
through  one  of  these  courtyards.  Many  of  the  peo 
ple  would  be  seated  at  little  tables  drinking  coffee 
or  chocolate  and  eating  bread  and  fruit,  for  the  Mexi 
can  eats  a  much  simpler  breakfast  than  the  Ang 
lo-American.  Poor  Juan,  it  made  him  homesick 
when  he  looked  at  the  breakfast.  How  he  longed  to 
sit  down  at  the  home  table  and  enjoy  the  vension 
steak,  stewed  rabbit  or  bacon  and  sausage,  the  hot 
biscuit,  cornbread,  battercakes  with  "good  old  mo 
lasses"  or  honey.  But  he  had  to  acknowledge  that 
people  seemed  to  enjoy  their  simpler  fare  as  much 
as  the  home  folks  did  their  heartier  meal. 

In  the  center  of  the  court  were  peddlers  of  vegeta 
bles,  fruits,  eggs  and  poultry.  Seated  on  the  ground 
they  waited  quietly  and  seemingly  indifferent  to  sales. 
Some  had  little  stalls  where  gay  colored  handker 
chiefs  and  gaudy  cheap  dress  goods  tempted  the 
dark-eyed  damsels  and  matrons.  Blankets,  sombre 
ros,  and  baskets  were  heaped  in  profusion ;  cheap  clay 
pottery  and  gay  little  toys  all  lay  in  ambush  for  the 


204  The  Boy  Captive 

small  coins  of  the  careful  housewife,  the  gay  young 
dandy,  the  pretty  girl;  the  little  ones  were  assailed 
in  every  direction  by  dulces,  and  Juan  often  fell  a 
victim  to  these  strange  compounds  of  sweetness. 

At  any  hour  of  the  day,  there  was  something  new 
and  diverting  in  the  ugly  little  town.  If  only  he 
could  have  had  the  boys  or  his  father  with  him  to 
enjoy  it;  for  it  was  all  an  every  day  matter  to  his 
new  friends;  besides  his  slight  knowledge  of  Spanish 
prevented  a  free  interchange  of  thoughts-  And  so  he 
often  wandered  alone,  unconscious  that  he  was  an 
object  of  interest  to  others. 

Often  he  watched  the  drill  of  the  big-hatted  sold 
iers,  who  never  marched  in  step  or  seemed  to  notice 
the  rhythm  of  the  band's  fine  music.  He  enjoyed 
the  little  half-clad  children  lassoing  cats,  dogs,  om- 
niverous  goats,  patient  bwros,  good-natured  passers- 
by  or  each  other  with  untiring  energy  and  unceas 
ing  enthusiasm. 

Cock  fights  were  everywhere  save  inside  the 
churches,  and  indeed  the  almost  inevitable  adorn 
ment  of  the  poorer  classes,  was  a  fine  game  cock  teth 
ered  in  one  corner  of  the  room  with  a  little  dish  of 
corn  and  another  of  water,  flapping  his  wings  and 
crowing  defiance  to  his  feathered  brethern  in  adja 
cent  houses. 

Juan  grew  familiar  with  these  simple  houses  with 
beaten  clay  floors  and  no  furnishing  save  a  little  chest 
or  box  that  held  the  superfluous  clothing  of  the  en- 


The  Boy  Captive  205 


tire  family;  a  little  pile  of  mats  represented  their 
bedding;  some  earthen  pots  and  jars  for  food  and 
water,  and  the  indispesable  metate,  or  mill  for 
grinding  corn.  These  were  the  furnishings  of  the  one 
room  that  served  the  family  for  sleeping  room  and 
living  room.  Fortunately,  the  balmy  climate  enabl 
ed  them  to  live  in  the  open  air  the  greater  portion 
of  the  year. 

At  night  the  open  doorways  often  framed  a  strik 
ing  picture:  a  group  of  muleteers  squatted  near  a 
fire  engaged  in  the  fascination  of  gambling.  The 
flickering  light  fell  on  their  dark  faces  half  hidden 
by  the  great  hats  gleaming  with  silver  braids  and 
tassels.  It  threw  their  witchlike  shadows  long  and 
fantastic  in  dancing  mockery,  and  from  all  sides  of 
the  courtyard  other  shadows  were  dancing  wierdly  to 
meet  them,  for  each  house  was  open  wide  and  its  in 
mates  happily  engaged  in  pleasure  or  domestic  duties. 
Some  were  cooking,  some  were  dancing,  some  were 
singing.  Children  played  in  and  out  the  many 
groups  with  shrill  voices  and  happy  laughter.  Now 
and  then  some  sentimental  'burro,  moved  by  sympathy 
with  the  gay  throng,  would  lift  his  sonorous  voice  and 
contribute  to  the  harmony,  whereupon  every  skulking 
dog,  and  these  seemed  innumerable  and  of  all  de 
grees  of  mongrelism,  would  rise  and  bark  and 
bark  and  bark  until  some  indignant  citizen  would  end 
the  bedlam  by  kicks  and  ejaculations  of  "Cst!  Cst! 


206  The  Boy  Captive 

Sal!"  or  "Collate,  Collate  la  boca!"  Get  out,  or 
Shut  your  mouth!) 

Juan's  experience  at  Matamoras  was  of  short 
duration.  Just  as  he  was  becoming  accustomed  to 
his  new  surroundings,  and  able  to  put  a  less  divided 
mind  on  his  studies  in  the  unfamiliar  Spanish,  an 
other  change  in  his  varied  career  was  announced. 

General  Ampudia  received  a  letter  from  Santa 
Anna  requesting  that  the  young  Texan,  (Juan 
Christobal  Colon  Gil)  be  forwarded  by  way  of  Tam- 
pico  and  Rio  del  Monte  to  the  City  of  Mexico.  This 
was  a  source  of  great  distress  to  General  Ampudia, 
for  he  was  growing  more  attached  to  the  boy  each 
day.  He  desired  to  keep  him  in  school  at  Matamoras 
although  all  the  fine  government  schools  were  at  the 
capital.  But  of  this  Juan  knew  nothing,  and  only 
consoled  himself  by  thinking  that  perhaps  after  all 
he  might  hear  something  of  the  fate  of  the  other 
Texans,  and  share  the  imprisonment  of  his  dear 
father,  brother,  and  beloved  chums.  He  had  written 
to  his  mother  and  Jeffrey,  and  General  Ampudia  as 
sured  him  that  the  answers  should  be  forwarded 
promptly  on  their  arrival  at  Matamoras,  a  great  com 
fort,  for  military  dispatches  were  prompt,  but  mail 
facilities  were  the  poorest. 


AT  THE  ARCHBISHOP'S 
PALACE 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


AT   THE   ARCHBISHOP  *S   PALACE.* 


"*  f  •  MIB  order  of  Gen 
eral  President 
Antonio  Lopez 
de  Santa  Anna  knew 
no  modification,  it  was 
imperative,  and  now 
the  young  captive  who 
had  these  months  been 
as  an  honored  guest  at 
the  headquarters  of 
General  Ampudia,  must 

be  sent  to  Mexico  City.  Much  as  he  desired  to  keep  the 
little  boy  with  him,  yet  well  did  the  General  realize 
that  in  his  superior  officer  and  the  President  all  in 
one,  were  combined  the  "Mildness  of  the  lamb  and 
the  fierceness  of  the  enraged  tiger."  The  boy  must 
go! 

Juan  by  his  amiability,  adaptability  and  his  ever 
obliging  and  happy  nature,  had  won  the  love  and 
respect  of  not  only  the  General  himself,  but  his  staff 
officers  and  all  who  had  come  in  contact  with  this 
remarkable  youth. 


*  Almost  this  entire  chapter,  word  for  word,   was  received 
from  Mr.  J.  C.  C.  Hill  in  person. 


210 


The  Boy  Captive 


"Under  safe  escort,"  read  the  order  of  President 
Santa  Anna,  but  General  Ampudia  knew  the  dangers 
attendant  upon  sending  a  boy  over  that  long,  and  al- 


Entrance  to  Archbishop's  Palace 


most  untraveled  route,  for  bandits  abounded  in  all 
directions,  making  extra  precautions  necessary. 

Every  arrangement  was  now  completed,  and  an 
escort  provided  of  a  captain,  a  lieutenant,  one  or  two 
orderlies,  and  a  dozen  or  more  soldiers,  all  thorough 
ly  equipped  for  a  safe  journey.  General  Ampudia 
had  presented  to  Juan  a  beautiful  little  horse,  bridle 
and  saddle,  the  latter  gorgeously  decorated  after  the 


The  Boy  Captive  211 

Mexican  fashion,  and  now  with  his  own  hands  assisted 
our  young  hero  into  the  saddle.  The  officers  about 
headquarters  had  assembled  to  bid  goodbye  to  the 
little  protege  of  the  General,  and  as  the  calvacade  mov 
ed  away  the  clear  voice  of  the  General  rang  out: 
" Adios  mi  hijito!"  (Goodbye  my  little  son.)  "Adios 
mi  nino!"  (Goodby  my  child)  "Dios  te  bendige!" 
(May  God  preserve  thee.) 

Our  young  traveler  turned  in  his  saddle  waving  his 
hand,  and  with  all  the  eloquence  of  his  grateful  heart, 
he  returned  to  the  General  and  other  officers  the 
pathetic,  parting  salutation:  "Adios." 

It  is  a  long  distance  from  Matamoras  to  the  Capital 
by  way  of  Tampico  over  a  then  very  rough,  bar 
ren  and  uninhabited  region.  Only  an  occasional 
haciendo,  (plantation)  or  pueblito  (little  village) 
was  to  be  seen  on  that  entire  journey,  save  when  they 
passed  through  Tampico  and  one  or  two  places  of 
the  same  size  and  importance.  The  kindly  people 
along  the  route  were  always  curious  and  interested 
to  know  something  about  El  Muchachiio  Americano, 
al  prisonero.  (The  American  boy  prisoner)  which 
one  of  the  escorts  explained  to  them.  "Pobrecito! 
Probrecito!"  (Poor  little  fellow)  fell  upon  Juan's 
ears  many  times  on  that  long  journey. 

At  last  the  domes  and  turrets  of  the  churches  in 
the  Great  Capital  of  Mexico  gleamed  in  the  morning 
sunlight,  and  though  perhaps  a  little  weary,  but  not 


212 


The  Boy  Captive 


discouraged,  our  young  captive  felt  prepared  to  meet 
anything  that  might  come  to  him. 

The  captain  in  charge  had  been  given  positive  in 
structions  by  General  Ampudia  that  Juan  was  to  be 
delivered  only  to  His  Excellency  General  Presidente 
Santa  Anna.  On  halting  before  the  National  Palace 
to  carry  out  his  orders,  the  Captain  was  informed 


Archbishop  Posada 

that  His  Excellency  was  ill  and  unable  to  see  the  boy 
then,  but  he  had  arranged  for  him  to  go  at  once  to 
the  Archbishop's  Palace,  which  was  just  across  the 
street,  where  he  would  receive  proper  care  until  he 
should  himself  be  able  to  receive  him. 

The  Captain  and  Juan  were  soon  ushered  into  the 
great  zaguan  (hall  of  the  palace)   and  were  met  by 


The  Boy  Captive  213 

a  young  friar,  and  by  him  were  conducted  into  the 
presence  of  the  great  head  of  the  church  of  Mexico. 
At  every  step  Juan  took  he  was  saying  to  him 
self:  "I  wonder  what  an  Archbishop  looks  like. 
Will  he  be  cross  and  crusty  and  say  hard  things  to 
me  ? ' '  His  heart  was  in  his  mouth  as  he  followed  the 
Captain  and  the  friar  and  now  stood  facing  a  new 
problem.  But  instead  of  a  grim,  disagreeable,  old  man, 
"who  would  look  cross,"  Juan  beheld  a  genial, 
kindly,  elegant  looking  old  gentleman  who  at 
once  extended  his  own  white,  velvety  hand  and  took 
the  tanned,  little  brown  hand  of  Juan  which  hung  by 
his  side,  and  in  kindly  words  said :  "My  young  friend, 
the  President  told  me  that  you  were  coming,  and  that 
you  should  remain  here  with  me  until  he  is  well 
enough  to  see  you.  I  bid  you  welcome  to  the  Arzo- 
bispado  (Archbishop's  palace)  where  you  must  feel 
at  home,  and  where  we  shall  do  all  we  can  to  make 
you  comfortable.  The  President  is  quite  sick  now." 

The  Captain  took  an  affectionate  leave  of  Juan 
and  for  his  kindness  and  attention  to  him  on  the 
long  journey,  Juan  thanked  him  sincerely. 

By  this  time  Juan  was  both  speaking  and  under 
standing  the  Spanish  very  well  and  was  greatly  en 
joying  this  knowledge. 

The  Archbishop  asked  him  if  he  were  tired.  "No, 
Your  Reverence,"  said  Juan,  "I  am  not  a  bit  tired, 
been  riding  a  horse  in  Texas  ever  since  I  could  stand 
alone." 


214  The  Boy  Captive 


The  Archbishop  now  asked  the  boy  about  himself, 
and  at  once  the  whole  story  about  Mier  followed. 
The  good  man  became  deeply  interested  and  observ 
ing  that  the  boy  was  suffering  mental  anxiety  about 
his  father  and  brother,  kindly  laid  his  hand  upon  the 
boy's  head  saying:  "My  son,  these  things  are  all  in 
the  hands  of  God :  we  must  pray  to  the  Holly  Mother 
to  intercede  and  bring  your  dear  ones  to  you  in 
safety." 

These  comforting  words  fell  like  a  gentle  balm  upon 
the  spirit  of  the  heartsick  boy.  The  Archbishop 
observing  the  effect  of  his  words  wisely  requested  the 
young  frair  to  take  Juan  into  the  garden.  In  Mexi 
co  these  gardens  are  all  inside  the  houses,  and  are 
called  patios  or  courtyards,  and  in  houses  so  exten 
sive  as  the  Arzobispado  there  might  be  two  or  three 
of  these  courtyards. 

Juan  was  dazzled  by  the  beautiful  trees,  shrubs, 
flowers  and  plants,  which  he  beheld  on  every  side. 
There  were  fine,  old  olive  trees  which  the  friar  as 
sured  him  were  brought  from  Europe ;  grand  banana 
plants,  and  many  lemon  and  orange  trees,  and  cling 
ing  to  every  possible  support  were  rare,  large,  double, 
red  and  pink  roses,  and  white  and  yellow  jasmine 
filled  the  air  with  their  fragrance;  camelias,  violets, 
japonicas,  carnations,  hibiscus,  and  a  bewildering 
array  of  gorgeous  vines  and  flowers  which  he  had 
never  before  seen,  greeted  his  delighted  eyes  at  every 
turn.  It  was  growing  late,  Juan  was  given  a  light 


The  Boy  Captive  215 


repast  and  he  and  the  young  friar  now  went  into  a 
large  room  and  each  taking  one  of  the  snowy,  single 
beds,  the  boy  was  soon  lost  in  a  blessed  and  refresh 
ing  sleep. 

Early  the  next  morning  a  white-clad  mozo  served 
Juan  his  coffee  and  roll,  saying  the  Archbishop  would 
like  to  see  him  down  stairs.  Responding,  he  soon 
found  himself  in  one  of  the  large  reception  rooms 
of  the  Palace-  The  Archbishop  was  at  that  moment 
engaged  with  some  visitors,  but  an  attendant  told 
him  to  be  seated  near  the  front  window,  where  he 
could  view  the  scenes  of  the  street.  There  seemed  to 
be  a  multitude  of  widely-excited  people  and  Juan 
craned  his  neck  as  far  as  he  could  before  the  iron 
grating  to  see  what  it  all  meant. 

A  man  approached  ringing  a  bell,  the  throng  be 
gan  to  drop  down  on  their  knees  and  call  out:.  .Dios 
viene!..Dios  viene!"  (God  is  coming.)  There  came 
a  coach  drawn  by  two  fat,  sleek  mules  and  in  the 
coach  was  a  priest,  and  walking  behind  the  coach 
were  a  dozen  friars  with  lighted  candles  chanting  as 
they  moved  in  double  file.  On  hearing  the  bell  all 
the  young  priests  and  attendants  in  this  room  and 
about  the  Palace,  dropped  on  their  knees,  murmur 
ing  something  the  like  of  which  Juan  had  never 
heard  before.  But  what  the  priest  did,  Juan  did  not 
see,  for  an  exclamation  of  disgust  from  the  interior 
of  the  room  called  his  attention  from  the  street,  and 
he  beheld  the  Archbishop  Posada  standing  with  bow- 


216  The  Boy  Captive 


ed  head,  while  by  his  side  knelt  a  young  man  who 
glared  upon  Juan  with  anything  but  a  pious  expres 
sion. 

Filled  with  astonishment  at  the  menacing  look, 
Juan  stood  like  a  statue  awaiting  developments. 
From  out  the  street  the  tinkling  of  the  little  bell  and 
chanting  of  the  friars  rose  with  an  oppressive  solem 
nity  that  fell  upon  Juan's  buoyant  young  spirit  like 
a  black  shadow.  The  sound  passed  on,  and,  immedi 
ately  in  its  wake  he  heard  the  reviving  stir  of  the 
crowded  street. 

The  Archbishop  raised  his  kindly  face  and  said 
pleasantly:  "Good  morning  my  son."  Then  turn 
ing,  he  spoke  rapidly  but  quietly  to  the  young  man, 
now  erect,  and  raising  his  hand,  dismissed  him. 

"My  son,"  said  the  Bishop,  looking  seriously  at 
Juan,  "Though  you  rejected  the  Holy  Mother,  do 
you  not  worship  the  Holy  Son,  Our  Lord  Jesus?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  faltered  poor  Juan  in  astonishment. 

"Then  why  do  you  fail  to  make  your  devotions 
when  He  passes  by,  going  to  the  dying  faithful?" 
asked  the  Bishop  a  little  sternly. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  such  things,"  said 
Juan.  I  am  sorry  to  have  appeared  rude  to  you, 
and  hope  Your  Reverence,  you  will  overlook  it  this 
time,  it  was  all  from  not  knowing,  that  I  seemed 
impolite  and  without  respect  for  the  religion  of  your 
people." 

The  Archbishop  then  explained  that  the  passing  of 


The  Boy  Captive  217 


the  Sacred  Host  was  the  carrying  of  the  Holy  Sac 
rament  to  the  bedside  of  some  dying  person.  Juan's 
mistake  had  been  in  not  kneeling  when  a  Sacred  Host 
was  carried  by. 

The  Archbishop  now  turned  to  Juan  and  in  an 
earnest,  kindly  manner  said:  "My  son,  you  must  be 
baptized  in  the  True  Church,  then  you  will  under 
stand  and  appreciate  the  beauty  of  these  ceremonials ; 
they  are  all  symbolic  of  the  life  of  our  Blessed  Savior. 
I  will  appoint  a  time  very  soon  for  you  to  be  bap 
tized." 

Baptize  me ! "  said  Juan,  looking  up  in  amazement 
at  the  Archbishop.  "When  an  infant  I  was  baptized 
in  the  arms  of  my  mother  into  the  Methodist  church, 
and  I  am  still  a  member  of  that  church.  It  is  the 
church  of  my  parents  and  all  my  people,  Your  Rever 
ence,  and  I  don't  see  how  I  could  leave  it." 

"Why,  that  is  no  church  at  all.  Did  not  our  Sav 
ior  say  of  St.  Peter,  'On  this  rock  will  I  build  my 
church  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against 
it'?"  And  the  Archbishop,  warming  to  his  theme, 
enlarged  on  the  duties  and  privileges  of  St.  Peter  as 
embodied  in  the  Holy  Catholic  Church. 

Now  Juan  was  a  good  boy  and  a  believer  in  the 
religion  of  his  mother,  but  he  was  not  able  to  cope 
with  so  learned  a  scholar  upon  a  subject  so  entirely 
unfamiliar  to  him,  so  he  waited  quietly  till  the  Bishop 
had  finished  his  eloquent  appeal.  Thinking  over  his 
long  separation  from  his  mother,  of  his  brother 


218  The  Boy  Captive 


wounded  and  in  the  hospital  at  Mier,  of  his  father 
somewhere  on  a  desolate  road  in  need  of  him,  the 
tears  rose  and  he  turned  and  gazed  out  of  the  window 
with  unseeing  eyes.  A  great  wave  of  homesickness 
and  heartsiekness  swept  over  him.  His  slender,  boy 
ish  figure  outlined  against  the  pleasant  morning  sky, 
had  a  droop  to  the  square  shoulders  that  was  infinite 
ly  pathetic  and  appealing. 

The  Archbishop  must  have  felt  this  appeal  for  he 
said  in  a  gentle,  kindly  voice:  "The  Holy  Mother 
loves  a  good  son  and  God  is  merciful."  Then  as  the 
silence  continued  and  the  boy  still  gazed  out  of  the 
window,  he  continued: 

"Let  us  not  quarrel  mi  nino  (my  child)  it  is  all 
in  the  hands  of  God.  But,  Juan,  if  the  Sacred  Host 
is  carried  by,  you  should  at  least  uncover  your  head — 
besides,  hijito  mio,  if  you  do  not,  the  ignorant  people 
may  fall  upon  and  hurt  you  because  they  may  think 
you  show  disrespect  to  their  most  sacred  belief. 

Juan  found  it  very  pleasant  to  have  the  freedom 
of  the  beautiful  orchards,  and  to  move  in  and  out 
among  the  servants  at  their  work,  for  of  all  of  the 
strange  things  he  saw,  nothing  struck  him  as  being  so 
odd  as  their  kitchen  furniture.  To  see  a  woman  mak 
ing  tortillas  was  a  familiar  sight,  and  something  that 
never  lost  the  charm  of  novelty;  he  felt  the  same  in 
terest  in  the  primitive  range,  a  bench  or  ledge  of 
brick  or  adobe  that  ran  along  the  side  of  the  wall ;  it 
was  perhaps  two  or  three  feet  high  and  two  feet 


The  Boy  Captive  219 

broad,  and  the  little  fires  of  charcoal  were  built  for 
each  savoury  dish.  Juan  wondered  how  ''Mammy 
Lou"  would  like  to  cook  on  it.  He  laughed  to  him 
self  when  he  thought  of  the  great  logs  in  the  hearth  at 
home,  where  the  family  cooking  was  done,  for  as  yet 
cookstoves  in  any  numbers  had  not  reached  Texas, 
and  the  sight  of  one  would  have  filled  him  with  more 
astonishment  than  the  charcoal  cooking  of  the  Mexi 
cans- 

The  water  carriers  with  their  heavy  jars  seemed 
to  have  the  right-of-way;  their  peculiar  manner  of 
strapping  their  burthen  around  their  forehead  pre 
vented  them  from  looking  up  and  avoiding  obstacles 
in  their  path;  so  ladies  with  close  drawn  rebozos, 
priests  in  shovel  hats  and  long  robes,  and  gentlemen 
with  lower  parts  of  their  faces  wrapped  in  handker 
chief  or  muffler,  for  the  night  chill  had  not  as  yet 
yielded  to  the  sun,  these  and  other  pedestrians  step 
ped  courteously  aside. 

Little  mouse-colored  burros  loaded  with  charcoal, 
were  guided  on  their  tortuous  path  by  half-naked  In 
dians  yelling  "carbon!  carbon!"  (charcoal).  In  an 
other  direction  long  lines  of  little  burros  crept  slowly 
on  their  way  loaded  with  wood,  vegetables,  corn,  jars, 
baskets,  anything  and  everything  that  was  used  in 
the  domestic  life  of  the  Mexican.  Now  and  then  in 
this  strange  procession  there  would  come  another 
Indian  with  a  long  crate  strapped  to  his  head  and 
hanging  down  his  back  who,  as  he  trotted  along,  call- 


220  The  Boy  Captive 

ed  at  the  highest  pitch  of  his  voice,  "huevos!  huevosl' 
(eggs).  Juan  could  not  resist  smiling  as  he  thought 
how  that  man  would  look  if  one  of  the  scantlings 
tied  to  a  little  burro  near  him,  should  accidently  hit 
the  crate  with  its  frail  contents.  But  no  accidents 
happened  to  mar  the  slow  going  pace  of  the  proces 
sion.  The  burros  dragged  their  clumsy  loads  of  tim 
ber  in  and  out  threading  their  way  through  the 
crowd,  the  arrieros,  (mule  drivers)  beside  them  call 
ing  encouraging  words  and  seeming  never  to  be  hur 
ried,  angry,  or  in  any  way  troubled  at  the  slow 
progress  they  made.  In  fact  no  one  seemed  in  haste, 
and  all  were  good  natured. 

Many  of  the  men  had  panniers  of  vegetables,  and 
others  had  tall  coops  full  of  poultry,  cackling  and 
crowing  in  the  most  animated  fashion  as  if  discussing 
their  first  impressions  of  the  city. 

Indians  were  plentiful  swinging  along  at  a  little 
dog  trot  with  a  big  basket  or  crate  loaded  with  fruit 
or  vegetables,  or  a  wardrobe  or  bureau,  everything 
in  fact  that  the  burro  carries  except  timber  or 
wood-  The  peddlers  of  pulque  presented  a  very  odd 
appearance,  indeed,  for  they  carried  this  popular 
beverage  in  the  skin  of  a  sheep,  or  pig,  even  the  legs 
in  entirety ;  it  seemed  rather  repulsive  to  Juan  and  he 
mentally  resolved  not  to  drink  any  pulque. 

Many  of  the  Indians  seemed  to  have  brought  their 
entire  family,  the  procession  headed  by  the  men  in 
their  white  cotton  trousers  and  faded  zarapes  dang- 


The  Boy  Captive  221 


ling  from  their  shoulders,  their  wide  brimmed  hats 
with  conical  crowns  often  decorated  with  a  bit  of 
silver  or  gold  braid;  next  would  come  the  women  in 
their  short  skirts,  their  dark  or  black  rebozos  serving 
as  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  the  inevitable  baby,  half 
concealed  by  its  folds,  hanging  behind,  and  often 
below  the  vegetables,  or  tucked  in  one  arm  while  the 
other  carried  some  small  contribution  to  the  family 
stock  in  trade;  then  a  small  mob  of  various-sized 
children  naked  and  half-naked,  each  bearing  their 
small  burden  to  be  disposed  of  at  the  general  market 
at  the  grand  plaza.  Sometimes  this  burden  was  an 
armful  of  fruit  or  vegetables  or  a  pair  of  doves,  or 
maybe  a  fowl.  Whatever  it  was,  they  bore  it  with 
cheerful  pride  and  amiability,  and  a  supreme  con 
sciousness  or  indifference  to  the  fact  that  one  man 
might  easily  have  carried  the  collective  burdens  with 
out  injury  or  inconvenience. 

It  was  interesting  to  watch  the  pantomime  of  a  bar 
gain,  for  although  the  swift  flowing  speech  was  be 
yond  Juan's  limited  vocabulary  of  Spanish  he  had 
already  recognized  that  they  sold  as  much  with  their 
hands  and  shoulders  as  other  nations  do  with  their 
tongues.  Such  shrugging  of  shoulders !  Such  waving 
of  arms!  Such  flexible  fingers!  Such  intensity  of 
expression  through  all,  and  when  from  appearances 
he  thought  the  deal  a  failure,  what  a  surprise  to  see 
the  vendor  call,  the  would-be  purchaser  turn,  and  the 


222  The  Boy  Captive 


beaming  smiles  of  both  at  the  happy  conclusion  of 
this  momentous  affair. 

When  friends  met  there  was  an  interchange  of 
embraces,  and  bows,  and  graceful  gesticulations  that 
were  an  astonishing  revelation  to  the  Texas  lad. 

As  Juan  gazed  up  the  street,  the  narrowing  vista 
was  met  by  a  mountain  wall.  As  he  gazed  down  the 
street  the  same  barrier  ended  the  perspective,  and 
over  the  housetops  in  front,  he  could  see  the  same 
grand  range  with  the  terraced  roofs,  the  bell-towers, 
and  the  domes  outlined  against  the  porphyritic  rock 
that  completely  encircles  this  beautiful,  quaint,  old 
city. 

Over  all  and  through  all  it  seemed  to  Juan,  there 
were  always  bells  ringing.  Sometimes  one  bell  would 
begin  quite  softly,  then  a  chorus  of  smaller  ones 
would  join — then  a  grand  uproar  of  very  large  ones 
would  take  up  the  good  work  and  drown  the  smaller 
bells  in  a  very  ocean  of  sound;  then  a  brief  silence 
would  follow  in  which  the  lesser  noises  of  humanity 
would  assert  themselves  once  more. 

Beggars  were  everywhere!  Standing  on  the  street 
corners;  sitting  in  the  doorways,  crouched  under  the 
wayside  shrines;  stationed  at  every  church  entrance 
infesting  the  public  buildings;  it  seemed  to  Juan  he 
met  an  outstretched  hand  or  heard  a  whining  voice, 
in  whatever  direction  he  turned. 

Juan  was  a  close  observer  and  he  soon  discovered 
that  the  City  of  Mexico  was  laid  out  with  geometrical 


The  Boy  Captive  223 


precision.  The  houses,  mostly  towering  three  stories 
high,  were  closely  built  together  without  intervening 
spaces  or  glimpses  of  yards  from  the  street ;  the  roofs 
were  flat  with  parapets  to  guard  the  edges.  It  would 
have  made  a  very  monotonous  skyline,  for  there  were 
no  chimneys  to  break  the  straight  lines,  but  it  was 
much  diversified  with  numerous  church  towers  and 
cupolas  that  graced  each  square. 

Convents  and  cloisters  were  everywhere.  The 
streets  were  full  of  priests  and  friars,  and  to  Juan  it 
appeared  that  the  people  did  more  praying  than  work; 
no  doubt  this  was  so,  for  it  was  the  Lenten  period. 
Even  as  he  gazed,  a  little  tinkling  of  bells  rang 
through  the  noisy  street;  as  by  magic  the  people 
faced  the  center  of  the  street  and  knelt-  Women  in 
black  or  blue  rebozos,  an  Indian  girl  in  cotton  chemise 
and  short  skirt,  a  man's  hat  shading  her  long  black 
braids,  ragged  lazarones,  gayly  dressed  arrierros, 
soldiers  in  uniform,  mozos,  (men-servants  of  the 
household)  in  white  cotton  jackets  and  wide  flowing 
trousers,  Mexican  cdballeros  (gentleman)  in  pictu 
resque  elegance,  and  portly  gentlemen  in  sedate  frock 
coats,  were  to  be  seen  at  any  hour  of  the  day. 

Juan  heard  a  bell  ringing  and  said  to  himeslf: 
"Now  that's  another  Sacred  Host  coming  along, 
guess  I  won't  miss  it  this  time,"  so  off  came  his  hat, 
and  onward  came  the  crowd,  leaving  an  open  path 
for  the  passage  of  the  Sacred  Host,  priests  and  friars. 
The  entire  populace  in  the  street  was  on  its  knees. 

14 


224  The  Boy  Captive 


The  boy  was  feeling  at  home.  Everyone  about  the 
Palace  treated  him  very  kindly  and  he  realized  each 
day  that  he  was,  indeed,  fortunate,  but  this  feeling 
was  always  checked  by  the  thought  of  what  his  father 
and  brother  might  be  suffering,  also  the  other  Texans. 
Despite  his  own  good  fortune  he  bemoaned  the  fate 
of  those  near  and  dear  to  him. 

One  day,  greatly  to  his  surprise  and  delight,  a  let 
ter  came  to  him  in  the  familiar  handwriting  of  Gen 
eral  Ampudia.  Upon  the  envelope  the  address  read: 
"A  Juan  C.  C.  Hill,  de  Ampudia,"  "Palacio  Na- 
cional  Mejico;"  and  enclosed  was  a  letter  from  his 
beloved  mother,  the  first  he  had  received.  His  heart 
swelled  with  pride  as  he  tearfully  read  her  loving 
missive  and  then  the  affectionate  greetings  from  his 
good  friend,  General  Ampudia,  gave  him  great  pleas 
ure.  The  letter  had  come  by  special  government  cou 
rier,  and  was  followed  at  intervals  by  others  of  the 
same  kind,  and  they  were  always  addressed  to  Juan 
C.  C.  Hill  de  Ampudia,  and  inside  they  read:  "A  mi 
querido  hijito,  (to  my  dear  little  son). 


BEFORE  THE  GREAT 
DICTATOR 


CHAPTER  XIV- 


BEFORE  THE   GREAT  DICTATOR. 


H 


IS    Excellency,    el 
Sefior       General 
Presidente   Anto 
nio    Lopez    de    Santa 
Anna,   wishes  to   see   mu- 
chacho    Hill,     the     Texas 
boy." 

This  was  the  announce 
ment  of  an  aid  upon  the 
staff  of  General  Santa 
Anna  at  the  National  Pal 
ace,  and  an  orderly  was 

Gen.  Antonio  Lopez  de  Santa  Anna        dispatched     to      CSCOrt     OUr 

young  captive  guest  from  the  Archbishop's  Palace 
into  the  presence  of  his  "serene  Highness."  The 
order  was  emphatic,  there  was  no  escaping  the  dictum 
of  this  most  dreaded  of  men  according  to  Juan's 
estimate  of  Santa  Anna.  Like  an  electric  flash  the 
boy  was  startled  from  head  to  foot;  visions  of  ter 
rible  experiences  through  which  he  had  passed;  the 
siege  of  Mier,  the  capitulation,  the  breaking  of  his 
treasuerd  gun,  the  order  to  come  into  the  presence 


*  Contents  of  this  chapter  were  given  by  John  C.  C.  Hill  in 
person. 


228  The  Boy  Captive 


of  the  august  General  Ampudia;  what  followed — 
and  the  terrible  sufferings  of  the  Texans  crowded 
rapidly  through  his  mental  retina.  But  now,  to  face 
a  new  danger,  and  be  subjected  to  the  ordeal  worse 
than  death  in  meeting  the  awful  Santa  Anna,  who 
would  undoubtedly  have  him  killed;  all  these 
thoughts  passed  through  his  mind.  True,  that  all 
these  months  he  had  been  recognized  as  a  prisoner, 
but  owing  to  the  great  kindness  of  General  Ampudia, 
and  later  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mexico,  it  was  in  name 
only,  for  he  had  been  as  free  as  a  bird  from  the  mo 
ment  of  his  coming  into  the  presence  of  the  General; 
in  fact  had  General  Ampudia  been  his  own  father, 
he  could  not  have  been  more  tender  or  gentle  in  his 
treatment  of  the  boy. 

But  there  was  now  no  time  to  grieve  over  the  possi 
bilities  of  fate,  nor  to  cross  rivers  before  he  reached 
them,  so  with  his  usual  courage  and  adaptability,  he 
laid  aside  the  book  he  had  been  reading,  and,  giving 
a  finishing  touch  to  his  faultless  attire  and  passing  his 
hand  lightly  over  his  glossy  locks,  he  stepped  forth, 
following  in  the  direction  of  the  young  officer.  Santa 
Anna  was  living  in  the  National  Palace  which  fronts 
the  Zocala  (an  open  park  or  square)  just  across  the 
street  from  the  Archbishop's  Palace  on  the  Calle  De 
Moneda  (street  of  money)  both  establishments  being 
in  close  proximity  to  the  Cathedral  and  Military  Bar 
racks. 


The  Boy  Vaptive  229 

Juan  had  time  and  again  gone  over  every  inch  of 
ground  in  and  about  these  notable  establishments, 
save  of  course,  the  inner  home  of  Santa  Anna.  This 
was  one  place  in  all  the  world  that  the  boy  hoped  he 
should  never  see.  He  did  not  feel  afraid  to  see  any 
man  that  breathed,  but  what  could  this  all  mean  now, 
that  he  must  appear  in  person  before  this  butcher  of 
human  beings — but  the  orderly  moved  forward  rap 
idly  and  soon  they  were  inside  the  door  of  the  vast 
room  in  which  this  awful  man  sat  upon  a  dais 
(throne-like  rise  of  the  room)  with  draperies  of  gor 
geous  gold  and  red,  held  in  artistic  lines  on  either 
side.  Here  was  the  man  in  whose  hands  rested  the 
destiny  of  Juan  and  the  fate  of  his  father  and  broth 
er!  Notwithstanding  the  deadly  silence  which  was 
over-awing  in  its  intensity  the  boy  hastily  took  in  the 
magnificence  and  splendor  of  that  entire  room.  Por 
traits  of  Mexico's  great  men  were  on  all  sides,  and, 
in  a  conspicuous  place,  hung  a  life-size  portrait  of 
George  Washington.  Juan  felt  like  bending  his  knee 
because  this  was  a  sure  enough  saint  for  all  men  to 
worship.  The  room  itself  was  truly  the  abode  suited 
to  an  emperor. 

With  the  utmost  composure,  ease,  grace  and  dig 
nity,  sat  Santa  Anna,  his  dark  eyes  though  penetrat 
ing,  looked  up  kindly  at  the  boy,  and  the  clothes 
he  wore  were  simple  and  unostentatious.  Later  Juan 
saw  him  in  the  grandest  clothes  a  man  ever  wore; 


230 


The  Boy  Captive 


Vice-President  Gomez  Farias 


his  breast  literally  cover 
ed  with  the  decorations 
and  honors  given  by  his 
appreciative  countrymen. 
Juan  had  reached  the 
dais  on  which  the  grim 
Dictator  was  seated  and 
he,  noting  the  advance  of 
the  picturesque  little  fig 
ure  with  a  face  of  rare 
beauty  and  brightness,  ex 
tended  his  hand  and  in 
vited  the  boy  to  come 
nearer,  saying :  ' '  Well, 
my  young  friend,  I  am  glad  to  meet  you  for  I  have 
heard  a  great  deal  about  you.  Although  you  are 
still  a  very  small  boy,  you  have  made  for  yourself  a 
flattering  reputation.  General  Pedro  Ampudia  has 
told  me  much  of  your  character  and  conduct  at  Mier. 
Few  boys  in  any  country  could  have  met  and  over 
come  the  same  difficulties  that  you  have,  and  I  am 
glad  to  know  you  in  person." 

Juan  felt  his  face  flush  and  his  ears  tingle  and  he 
began  to  tell  the  General  that  he  deserved  no  credit 
for  having  done  his  duty  under  these  great  trials. 

Santa  Anna  gave  a  little  wave  of  his  hand  indicat 
ing  that  the  boy  must  not  depreciate  his  own  fine 
deeds.  There  was  a  slight  stir  and  he  turned  in  the 
direction  indicated  by  the  penetrating  glance  of 


The  Boy  Captive  231 

Santa  Anna  who  nodded  to  two  other  gentlemen,  who 
now  approached  and  from  their  dress  and  manner 
Juan  was  sure  they  were  men  of  position.  At  this 
moment  General  Santa  Anna  introduced  General 
Jose  Marie  Tornel,  then  minister  of  war, — formerly 
Minister  to  the  United  States,  the  most  erudite  and 
scholarly  man  of  his  times  and  a  strikingly  handsome 
and  elegant  looking  man,  who  came  forward  with  ex 
tended  hand  and  beaming  countenance,  speaking  to 
the  boy  in  good  English. 

The  other  distinguished  man  to  whom  Juan  was 
formally  presented  was  General  and  vice-President 
Gomez  Farias,  an  able  diplomat  and  scholar,  a  man 
notable  in  the  history  of  his  country;  and  among  his 
many  fine  deeds  was  that  he  was  the  first  to  recom 
mend  the  taxation  of  church  property. 

Instead  of  deadly  and  unrelenting  foes  with  ani 
mosity  flashing  from  every  feature,  he  beheld  in  their 
faces  benevolence,  wisdom  and  intelligence.  They 
had  been  called  by  Santa  Anna  in  special  consultation 
to  settle  upon  some  plan  looking  to  the  future  welfare 
of  the  boy.  This  meeting  of  these  three  wise  and  able 
men,  taken  in  connection  with  the  character  and  his 
tory  of  the  boy,  was  perhaps  one  of  the  most  notable 
and  altogether  remarkable  ever  recorded.  The  results 
were  far-reaching  and  were  bounded  by  the  best  qual 
ities  of  mind  and  heart  of  which  these  three  great 
men  were  possessed.  Juan 's  destiny  was  in  the  hands 
of  these  notable  men ! 


232 


The  Boy  Captive 


The  story  of  his  fearless  courage  had  reached  them, 
and  his  beauty,  magnetism  and  charm  had  won  them 
at  a  first  glance — they  were  eager  to  do  the  best  for 
him.  The  fact  that  Santa  Anna  had  no  living  sons 
was  the  animus  for  the  idea  of  his  adopting  him  as  a 
son,  then  to  have  him  educated  at  Chapultepec  to 
become  an  officer  in  the  army-  This  Santa  Anna  now 
formally  proposed  to  do,  suggesting  the  military  col 
lege  as  a  suitable  school ;  and,  in  his  most  courtly  and 
sympathetic  manner  the  proposition  was  made. 

The  suddenness  as  well  as  the  magnitude  of  this 
great  offer  was  almost  overwhelming  to  the  boy;  he 
could  hardly  believe  his  own  ears;  he  began  to  stam 
mer  out  his  thanks,  saying  his  father  would  have  to 
decide  this  matter  for  him.  Santa  Anna  urged  his 

claim  with  increasing  cour 
tesy  and  emphasis,  to 
which  Juan  replied: 

' '  Your  Excellency,  I 
thank  you  for  this  great 
kindness;  to  attend  some 
of  your  fine  schools  here 
would  greatly  please  me, 
but  the  other  matter  of 
being  adopted  by  you  as 
your  son  would  seem  im 
possible,  when  a  boy  like 

General  Jose  Maria  Tomel  mySelf    is    bleSSed    b^    the 


The  Boy  Captive  233 

most  loving  and  devoted  parent's.  These  things 
must  all  be  settled  by  my  father  should  he  live  to 
get  here;  besides  I  cannot  serve  in  your  army,  for  if 
a  war  should  break  out  between  Texas  and  this 
country,  I  would  go  home  and  serve  in  the  ranks.  I 
should  never  fight  my  own  country." 

An  amused  smile  played  over  the  countenances  of 
the  three  great  men  at  this  uncompromising  answer. 
It  was  this  straight-forward  courage  of  Juan's  that 
made  him  so  many  friends.  Also  the  fact  that  he  was 
really  unconscious  of  anything  unusual  in  his  course. 
A  thing  was  right  or  it  was  wrong,  in  his  simple 
creed.  He  tried  to  do  that  which  was  right. 

"Well,  if  you  do  not  wish  to  become  a  student  at 
Chapultepec,  where  would  you  like  to  go?"  asked 
Santa  Anna  gently,  after  a  pause. 

"Your  Excellency,"  said  Juan,  "with  all  this  un 
certainty  as  to  the  fate  of  my  father  and  brother,  it 
is  impossible  for  me  to  tell  you  whether  I  want  to 
go  to  school  or  not;  at  any  rate  not  until  I  am  sure 
my  dear  ones  are  safe  and  alive  and  that  I  shall  see 
them  again.  I  should  love  to  go  to  a  good  school,  but 
not  now." 

Continuing  Juan  said,  "When  my  mother  con 
sented  for  me  to  go  to  the  war  with  my  father  and 
brother,  I  made  her  a  solemn  promise  to  take  care 
of  them.  This  I  did  the  best  I  could  as  long  as  I  was 
near  them,  and  I  think  I  helped  father  a  good  deal 
before  we  left  Mier,  for  when  I  told  General  Ampudia 


234  The  Boy  Captive 

that  I  had  given  mother  this  promise,  he  gave  father 
a  horse  to  ride  all  the  way  from  Mier  to  Matamoras. 
But  when  you  sent  that  cruel  order  for  all  the  Texans 
to  be  marched  to  this  capital,  I  could  do  nothing  but 
pray  to  God  for  the  protection  of  my  poor  old  father. 
Jeff  is  still  in  the  hospital  at  Mier,  and  all  these 
months  I  have  not  heard  a  word  from  mother,  and 
here  I  am  alone  in  this  country  and  still  not  a  word 
can  I  get  from  any  of  my  people.  Every  day  and 
hour  that  I  live  my  heart  aches  more  and  more  over 
the  thought  that  I  shall  never  see  them  again-  It 
seems  sometimes  like  I  can't  live  through  any  more 
anxiety  and  suspense.  In  my  dreams  I  often  see 
father  and  Jeff  lying  by  the  roadside,  dying  or  suf 
fering  untold  agony  in  a  dismal  prison,  and  when  I 
wake  up  I  still  see  them  suffering.  In  this  touching 
recital  the  bright,  fearless  eyes  of  the  boy  did  not 
wander  from  the  deep,  dark  eyes  of  Santa  Anna. 
There  was  a  little  quiver  in  the  voice,  but  not  a  sob 
escaped  the  firm  lips. 

There  was  a  mist  in  the  eyes  of  Santa  Anna,  and 
the  heads  of  the  other  two  great  men  were  turned 
away.  Either  one  or  all  of  these  men  who  had  listened 
would  have  gladly  gone  in  search  of  the  father  and 
brother,  or  done  anything  else  in  their  power  to  com 
fort  and  console  this  heart-sick  boy. 

Santa  Anna  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 
Taking  the  boy's  hand  in  one  of  his  own,  and  tend 
erly  placing  the  other  on  his  head  in  measured  words 


The  Boy  Captive  235 


of  kindness,  he  said:  "Mi  hijito  (my  little  son)  try 
not  to  grieve  so,  without  doubt  your  father  and 
brother  are  safe  and  will  soon  reach  this  capital.  I 
will  do  all  in  my  power  to  find  out  something  about 
them,  and,  in  the  meantime,  I  insist  that  you  come  at 
once  to  the  palace  and  be  as  a  son  to  my  wife,  the 
Dona  Dolores  de  Tosta  and  myself.  We  shall  do  all 
in  our  power  to  cheer  and  comfort  you.  But  you 
must  come  immediately." 

"But,  your  Excellency,  if  they  do  come,  will  you 
send  them  home  to  mother  ? ' '  The  boy  had  forgotten 
himself — forgotten  the  relations  between  himself  and 
the  man  most  dreaded  in  all  Mexico — he  stood  like 
one  transfixed,  gazing  into  the  eyes  of  Santa  Anna, 
but  to  him  it  seemed  there  was  no  hope  for  a  favor 
able  answer. 

A  deep  silence  fell  upon  the  room.  Santa  Anna 
narrowed  his  eyes  and  looked  steadily  at  the  boy, 
who  met  the  gaze  unflinchingly.  He  was  unconscious 
of  any  breach  of  discipline.  General  Tornel  gave  one 
fleeting,  sidelong  glance  at  Santa  Anna,  then  gazed 
out  of  the  window.  General  and  vice-President 
Gomez  Farias  fixed  his  eyes  steadily  upon  the  boy. 

Juan  now  ventured  to  speak,  and  with  a  feverish 
light  in  his  eyes  and  a  gentle  tremor  in  his  voice,  he 
faltered:  "Your  Excellency,  when  my  father  comes 
he  will  be  exhausted  from  the  long  march  on  foot, 
and  you  will,  I  know,  be  unwilling  that  a  man  so  old 
and  gray-haired  as  my  father  should  remain  a  pris- 


236  The  Boy  Captive 

oner,  when  it  won't  do  anybody  any  good  and  mother 
wants  him  to  come  home. ' ' 

The  boy  was  quick  to  take  advantage  of  the  strange 
and  continued  silence  upon  the  part  of  Santa  Anna, 
whose  face  still  remained  inscrutable-  Juan  was  the 
first  to  speak,  he  said:  "Your  Excellency,  my 
brother,  Jeffrey,  was  severely  wounded  at  Mier,  and 
if  he  lives  he  may  soon  be  able  to  come  here  to  be  shut 
up  in  prison,  how  awful ! ' ' 

Boyish  egotism,  moral  force,  heroic  courage,  or 
mysterious  foresight,  call  it  what  you  will.  The  won 
derful  intuition  of  this  extraordinary  boy  told  him 
that  in  dealing  with  a  many-sided  character  like 
Santa  Anna,  he  must  bring  to  bear  all  the  strongest 
forces  of  his  own  nature.  This  he  did,  and  still  gaz 
ing  fearlessly  into  the  eyes  of  Santa  Anna,  Juan  felt 
that  everything  that  life  held  dear  depended  upon  his 
own  actions.  So  he  ventured  to  say:  "Your  Excel 
lency,  when  my  father  and  brother  come,  you  will 
give  them  their  freedom,  will  you  not?" 

Santa  Anna  could  no  longer  hold  out  against  the 
earnest  persuasions  of  the  boy  and  with  a  generous 
and  spontaneous  warmth  of  manner  he  replied :  ' '  Yes, 
mi  hi  jit  o,  when  they  come  and  your  father  consents 
for  you  to  remain  and  accept  an  education,  and  you 
are  willing  to  do  so,  then  I  will  liberate  them  both  and 
send  them  home  in  safety  to  your  mother. ' ' 

Juan  heartily  shook  the  hand  that  held  his  own ;  he 
laughed  amid  his  fast  falling  tears,  for  that  young 


The  Boy  Captive  237 

heart  so  long  over-burdened  could  no  longer  hold  out 
when  such  an  assurance  had  been  given  him  by  Santa 
Anna.  Juan  finally  found  words  to  murmur  his  grat 
itude  and  thanks  to  the  Dictator,  but  he  only  waved 
his  hani  at  the  boy. 

"It  is  a  pleasure  to  serve  so  brave  and  good  a  little 
boy,"  said  Santa  Anna.  The  other  two  great  men 
came  forward  with  warm  congratulations  over  his 
success  in  obtaining  the  promise  of  freedom  for  his 
father  and  brother. 

' '  But  what  about  a  choice  of  schools  ? ' '  asked  Santa 
Anna. 

"It  is  impossible  yet  for  me  to  express  an  opinion 
as  to  that,  your  excellency.  Father  and  brother 
must  first  arrive,  and  then  father  can  settle  that  mat 
ter  for  me,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all.  But,  Your  Ex 
cellency,  I  am  pleased  with  what  General  Tornel  says 
about  the  Mineria,  and  if  all  these  other  matters  are 
settled  I  shall  be  glad  to  accept  your  kind  offer  of  an 
education,  and  that  of  General  Tornel  to  live  in  the 
Mineria  and  attend  that  school." 

General  Tornel  and  vice-President  Farias  had  lis 
tened  earnestly  to  the  conversation  of  the  boy  and 
Santa  Anna.  General  Tornel,  who  was  the  Director 
of  the  Mineria,  the  finest  college  in  all  Mexico,  which 
was  founded  by  the  Spaniards  300  years  before  for 
the  sons  of  miners  and  mine  owners,  turned  to  Santa 
Anna,  saying: 


238  The  Boy  Captive 

"Your  Excellency,  I  feel  sure  our  young  friend 
would  like  the  Min&ria  and  if  you  will  permit  me  I 
shall  be  glad  to  have  him  come  into  my  family  as  a 
third  son  and  he  shall  have  two  nationalities,  and  not 
have  to  fight  either." 

Would  the  earth  open  and  receive  this  boy — why 
he  could  not  believe  his  own  ears.  Two  of  the  very 
greatest  men  in  all  that  land  and  country  planning 
to  adopt  a  simple,  inoffensive  little  boy  who  had  only 
done  his  duty.  It  was  no  idle  dream. 

General  and  vice-President  Gomez  Farias  then 
came  forward  saying,  "In  this  great  privilege  of  pro 
viding  for  the  welfare  of  our  young  friend,  am  I  to 
have  no  voice  ? ' ' 

"You  are  kind  indeed  to  express  a  desire  to  help 
me  and  contribute  to  my  welfare,"  said  Juan-  "I 
shall  be  glad  to  visit  you  at  Chapultepec,  whenever  it 
seems  convenient  for  His  Excellency  to  permit  me  to 
do  so." 

And  he  did  often  visit  General  Farias  at  the  mili 
tary  college.  It  was  all  settled  between  the  three 
great  men  that  later  on  the  boy  should  enter  the 
Mineria.  With  most  peculiar  sensations  as  well  as 
gratitude  for  the  friendly  interest  of  these  disinter 
ested  and  newly  found  friends  in  an  enemy's  coun 
try  with  a  strange  language,  without  money  or  friends 
of  his  own  kind  to  help  out,  how  could  he  be  the  bene 
ficiary  of  kindnesses  so  great  and  unexpected?  He 
began  the  usual  form  of  departure,  when  Santa  Anna 


The  Boy  Captive  239 

called  him  to  his  side,  and  again  taking  his  hand  in 
his  own  he  said:  "Now  remember,  my  son,  that 
immediately  you  are  to  come  to  this  palace  and  live 
with  my  wife  and  myself." 

"How  good  of  your  Excellency,  I  do  not  deserve 
half  so  much  kindness  and  my  deepest  gratitude  goes 
out  to  you  and  to  all  who  have  been  so  very  kind  to 
me.  If  only  my  mind  could  be  put  at  rest  and  this 
terrible  doubt  and  uncertainty  be  removed,  but  as  it 
is  now  I  feel  that  no  palace,  however  grand,  could 
satisfy  me  unless  my  father  and  brother  could  come, 
and  go  home." 

As  the  little  figure  was  moving  away  from  this  re 
markable  trio,  General  Tornel  called  to  him,  "But 
remember  to  the  Mineria,  my  son,  you  are  to  go  to 
school — and  with  my  sons  be  made  happy ." 

' '  Oh,  yes,  thank  you,  General,  but  first  of  all  father 
and  Jeff  must  come  and  go  home."  A  wave  of  the 
hand,  a  gentle  adios,  and  Juan  went  again  to  the 
the  true  purport  of  the  visit. 

Poor  Juan  came  away  from  his  first  interview  with 
this  famous  man,  thoroughly  bewildered.  He  ex 
pected  a  monster;  he  beheld  an  amiable  gentleman, 
tall,  well-proportioned,  and  graceful  in  every  move 
ment  in  spite  of  his  wooden  leg.  So  great  was  the 
charm  of  his  manner,  so  tactful  his  conversation, 
Juan  forgot  his  distrust  and  prejudice,  and  it  was 
only  after  leaving  the  Dictator  of  Mexico,  he  realized 
the  true  purport  of  the  visit. 

15 


240  The  Boy  Captive 

He,  the  lonely  little  Texan,  separated  from  his 
father,  from  his  brother,  his  fellow-captives,  had  but 
lately  felt  the  bitterness  of  parting  from  his  new 
found  friend  and  protector,  General  Ampudia — he 
had  now  found,  not  only  one  great  friend  in  the  most 
powerful  man  in  all  Mexico,  but  he  had  found  three 
notable  men  doing  all  in  their  power  for  him. 

Juan  became  a  great  favorite  in  the  palace  of  Santa 
Anna  and  both  the  General  and  his  wife  made  every 
effort  to  make  the  boy  feel  at  home — even  the  simple 
servants  were  unfailing  in  their  attention  and  never 
grew  tired  of  serving  him.  Everything  in  and  about 
the  home  of  these  kind  people  was  ' '  at  his  order ' '  and 
there  he  really  felt  "he  had  his  home."  But  a  sad 
time  came,  the  Dona  Dolores  fell  seriously  ill,  friends 
and  physicians  gave  no  hopes  of  her  recovery,  and 
soon  the  Sacred  Host  was  to  be  brought  forward  in 
her  behalf.  Certainly  to  the  mind  of  a  boy  like  Juan 
such  splendor  had  never  been  equalled.  Several  thou 
sand  soldiers  in  line  passed  under  a  canopy  which 
covered  the  street  for  several  blocks.  Bands  of  music 
at  intervals  pouring  forth  their  low,  soft,  chanting 
music.  His  good  friend  the  Archbishop  in  the  most 
prominent  place,  with  priests,  friars,  mendicants, 
boys  with  bells,  splendid  carriages  of  state,  and  every 
grade  and  phase  of  humanity  was  in  that  procession, 
all  bent  on  saving  the  life  of  this  good  woman.  All 
went  well  and  the  Dona  Dolores  was  duly  restored  to 
her  accustomed  health. 


The  Boy  Captive  241 

Among  the  greatest  pleasures  of  the  boy  were  the 
frequent  walks  and  drives  Juan  took  with  this  amia 
ble  couple,  going  to  cock  fights  with  Santa  Anna,  and 
visiting  many  fine  houses  and  other  places  of  which 
he  knew  nothing.  Juan  was  soon  proficient  in  the 
Spanish  language,  but  Mr.  Gilliam  in  his  ' '  Travels  in 
Mexico, ' '  speaks  with  regret  that  in  showing  him  over 
the  Mineria  (1844)  he  had  forgotten  the  English  for 
many  words  had  lapsed  into  Spanish.  He  was  mis 
taken.  Juan  never  forgot  his  English,  nor  his  coun 
try,  nor  his  religion. 

General  Tornel  called  frequently  at  the  Palace  and 
had  many  long  conversations  with  him,  when  he 
found  that  the  little  Texan  had  not  changed  his  con 
victions  with  his  costumes.  That  he  believed  in  the 
independence  of  Texas,  and  cherished  the  intention 
of  fighting  under  her  flag  if  war  should  be  declared. 
He  conceived  a  strong  liking  for  the  boy  and  re 
spected  the  courage  and  loyalty  of  the  little  alien. 

He  had  brought  his  sons,  Augustin  and  Manuel, 
to  see  him,  and  a  warm  attachment  had  already 
formed  between  the  boys,  although  somewhat  retarded 
by  their  limited  knowledge  of  each  other's  language; 
on  Juan's  arrival  at  the  Archbishop's  Palace,  he 
found  Manuel  and  Augustin  Tornel  waiting  for  him 
and  they  started  out  for  a  walk  and  had  the  great 
good  fortune  to  meet  General  Waddy  Thompson,  Min 
ister  of  the  United  States.  This  gentleman  had  done 
much  to  obtain  the  release  of  the  Texans  who  were 


242  The  Boy  Captive 


captured  in  the  ill-fated  Santa  Fe  Expedition  and 
this  Juan  knew.  General  Thompson  at  once  recog 
nized  the  boy  for  he,  too,  had  heard  the  story  of  the 
rifle  and  he  was  much  interested. 

Saying  to  Juan:  "As  for  yourself,  my  boy," 
"I  think  you  have  nothing  to  worry  about.  It  is 
evident  the  President  has  taken  a  great  liking  to  you 
and  in  that  case,  you  will  get  everything  you  ask- 
He  does  nothing  by  halves.  Keep  up  your  courage, 
and,  when  your  father  comes,  ask  Santa  Anna 
straight  out  to  give  him  his  freedom ;  as  for  you,  why 
you  as  good  as  have  it  now." 

"Thanks  for  your  kind  suggestions,"  answered 
Juan,  "but  His  Excellency  has  already  given  me  his 
word  that  he  will  send  my  father  and  brother  home 
when  they  come." 

"Then  do  not  fear,  he  will  keep  his  word,"  said 
General  Thompson. 


GENERAL  GREEN'S 
ACCOUNT 


CHAPTER  XV. 


GENERAL  GREEN  *S  ACCOUNT. 


T 


HE  news  had  reach 
ed  Santa  Anna  of 
Ampudia  's      clem 
ency    toward    the    Texan 
prisoners;   and  jealous  of 
his     own    prerogatives, 
"The     Napoleon     of     the 
"West,"  as  he  styled  him 
self,  asserted  his  suprema 
cy    by    disregarding    the 
agreement  of  his  general, 
to   hold  the   prisoners   on 
the  border  until  exchanged 
or  released.   For  this,  per 
haps,  no  blame  should  be  attached  to  General  Am 
pudia. 

On  the  12th  of  January,  1843,  Colonel  Fisher,  Gen 
eral  Green,  Adjutant  Murry,  Sailing-Master  Lyon, 
Dr.  Shephard,  and  the  gay  and  genial  Dan  Drake 
Henrie,  who  served  as  their  interpreter,  all  set  forth 
on  their  journey  to  the  Mexican  capital,  under  the 
care  of  General  Canales  (whom  General  Green  heart 
ily  disliked  as  much  as  he  admired  Captain  Castro). 
By  a  little  fiction  regarding  Lyon  as  General  Green's 
body  servant,  he  was  enabled  to  keep  this  old  friend 


General  T.  J.  Green 


246  The  Boy  Captive 

with  him,  thus  saving  him  many  of  the  hardships  he 
would  have  suffered  had  he  remained  with  the  main 
body  of  prisoners.  Dan  Drake  Henrie  had  served  in 
the  United  States  navy,  had  seen  many  parts  of  the 
world,  was  a  grand  forager,  always  happy,  could 
speak  a  little  of  several  languages,  and  was  a  delight 
ful  acquisition  to  the  party  of  men  in  the  very  un 
pleasant  situation  they  were  facing. 

The  Texans  took  up  the  line  of  march  under  the 
charge  of  Colonel  Canales  with  six  hundred  infantry 
and  cavalry  guards  and  one  piece  of  artillery.  They 
went  by  way  of  Scarte  upon  the  San  Juan  River,  by 
way  of  Monterey,  which  is  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  English  miles.  The  officers  going  in  advance  of 
the  men,  reaching  Monterey  on  the  22nd  of  January, 
and  were  given  quarters  at  the  hospitable  mansion  of 
Colonel  Bermudez  at  the  mayor  de  la  plaza. 

The  men  made  slower  progress,  and  at  their  first 
stopping  place  determined  to  charge  upon  the  guards, 
but  a  misunderstanding  of  Captain  Cameron's  order 
prevented  carrying  it  out. 

"On  the  29th  the  men  reached  Monterey,  thence 
by  way  of  Saltillo  under  charge  of  about  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  guards  in  command  of  Colonel  Barra- 
gan-  February  2nd,  camped  at  St.  Catherine,  twelve 
miles  away  and  at  Rinconada  twenty-four  miles. 
Here  again  they  planned  an  attack  upon  the  guards; 


The  Boy  Captive 


247 


the  place  was  not  favorable  for  it  but  the  vigilance  of 
the  guards  became  so  extreme  that  the  plan  failed. 

"We,"  continued  General  Green,  "(the  officers) 
arrived  at  Mateguala  (Mat-a-wa-la)  at  nine  o'clock 
at  night  and  found  the  whole  population  out  to  see 
us.  We  were  hurried  through  the  streets  and  quar 
tered  at  a  meson  (country  tavern  or  wagon  yard). 
Next  morning  old  Colonel  D.  Matias  de  'Aguirre  came 
to  see  us.  This  old  veteran  treated  us  with  great 


w* 

m'£$&&& 

The  Bishop's  Palace — Monterrey 


kindness  and  ordered  us  to  be  removed  to  better 
quarters  and  placed  under  special  charge  of  a  hu 
mane  gentleman  and  accomplished  scholar,  a  lawyer 
by  profession,  D.  Manuel  Fernandez  Palos.  During 
our  stay  of  three  days  in  this  city  we  were  furnished 


248  The  Boy  Captive 

from  the  table  of  this  gentleman  with  every  luxury  the 
city  could  afford.  We  were  visited  by  all  persons  of 
distinction,  among  the  rest  a  priest,  a  gentleman  of 
superior  intelligence  and  liberal  feelings,  who  after 
wards  sent  us  several  rich  viands  from  his  table. 
We  also  met  the  Baron  De  Kaminsky,  a  member  of 
the  traveling  scientific  corps  of  the  Emperor  of  Rus 
sia.  A  gentleman  of  extensive  acquirements  who  had 
been  for  several  years  exploring  the  Northern  States 
of  Mexico.  This  excellent  old  gentleman  expressed 
for  us  the  kind  feelings  of  a  father  and  upon  parting, 
insisted  upon  our  taking  some  of  his  excellent  tea, 
which  we  highly  enjoyed  during  our  stay  in  Mexico. 
On  leaving  these  kind  friends,  Colonel  Fisher  and 
myself  addressed  polite  letters  of  thanks  to  these 
amiable  and  kind  gentlemen. 

Continuing,  General  Green  says:  "On  February 
6th  we  had  reached  the  hacienda  de  Salado,  150  miles 
north  of  the  city  of  San  Luis  Potosi,  under  Captain 
Ugatechia  and  on  the  7th  Colonel  Barragan  followed 
with  the  main  body  of  the  men.  Here  the  Texans 
planned  to  escape-  All  conferred  as  to  the  practica 
bility  of  charging  the  guards.  Colonel  Fisher  op 
posed  it,  General  Green  favored  it.  Sunrise  was  sug 
gested,  as  a  time  when  the  horses  would  be  herded 
and  I  thought  there  would  be  no  danger,  that  a  few 
days  of  rapid  march  over  the  main  road  would  insure 


The  Boy  Captive  249 

success.  Our  usual  time  of  starting  was  half  an  hour 
after  sunrise  and  as  soon  as  the  main  body  of  our  men 
had  succeeded  in  driving  their  guards,  Captain  Fitz 
gerald  was  to  lead  the  party  around  the  buildings, 
force  the  gate  and  assist  us  if  necessary,  against  our 
guards.  Captain  Romano,  contrary  to  our  former 
custom,  had  started  us  about  eight  or  ten  minutes 
previous  to  sunrise.  In  this  time  we  had  proceeded 
about  three-fourths  of  a  mile  when  the  sun  made  its 
appearance  over  the  mountains.  I  was  riding  by  the 
side  of  Sailing-Master  Lyon  and  remarked:  "If  our 
boys  were  going  to  do  anything,  now  was  the  time.  I 
had  barely  made  the  remark,  when  I  heard  the  first 
gun.  I  knew  what  it  meant,  and  exclaimed:  'We 
have  them.'  The  second,  third  and  fourth  guns  were 
fired  before  Captain  Romano  noticed  it.  He  halted 
us  and  sent  Lieutenant  Arredondo  back  to  see  what 
was  the  matter.  He  galloped  back  a  few  hundred 
yards,  returned  in  great  haste,  reported  that  the 
Texans  had  charged  Colonel  Barragan,  and  his  troops 
were  flying  in  every  direction.  Captain  Romano  or 
dered  us  on  from  the  scene  of  action  at  full  gallop 
with  his  cavalry  lances  at  a  charge  on  each  side  of  us. 
After  going  two  or  three  hundred  yards,  we  were 
halted  and  made  to  dismount.  The  firing  had  now 
become  very  brisk,  and  the  excitement  in  our  party 
intense.  Each  had  his  speculations  as  to  the  result. 
I  believed  from  the  first,  our  men  would  prevail  with 
a  loss  not  exceeding  ten.  Colonel  Fisher  believed  the 


250  The  Boy  Captive 

attack  was  injudicious  and  the  whole  of  our  men 
would  be  killed-  Most  of  ours  believed  with  me.  At 
length  a  short  pause  was  discerned  in  the  firing,  then 
it  commenced  again  brisker  than  ever,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  another  pause  which  was  quickly  succeeded 
by  a  loud  shout  which  we  knew  to  be  Texan.  This 
shout  for  a  moment  quieted  our  excitement,  but  it 
was  quickly  succeeded  by  one  of  more  interest  to  us. 
At  this  time  a  Lieutenant  came  up  to  us  at  full  speed 
with  orders  from  Colonel  Barragan  to  Captain  Ro 
mano  to  shoot  us  and  come  immediately  to  his  assist 
ance.  He  ordered  his  men  to  reprime  their  escopetas 
and  make  ready,  which  was  instantly  done.  This  was 
a  critical  moment  and  it  was  necessary  to  be  met  with 
coolness  and  promptness  on  our  part.  Colonel  Fisher 
and  myself  asked  him,  "If  he  was  not  bound  to  obey 
the  orders  of  Governor  Ortega  to  take  us  to  Mexico,  or 
any  subsequent  order  of  Colonel  Barragan,  and  that 
we  expected  we  were  in  the  hands  of  a  gentleman  and 
a  soldier,  not  a  murderer.'  His  eyes  were  instantly 
lowered  to  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  and  his  counte 
nance  underwent  hesitation,  change  and  satisfaction, 
in  as  many  seconds,  when  he  raised  himself  in  his  stir 
rups  and  proudly  clapping  his  hand  upon  his  bosom 
ordered  the  interpreter  to  say  to  the  gentleman, 
"That  they  are  in  the  hands  of  a  gentleman  and  a 
soldier,  and  that  I  will  carry  out  the  orders  of  Gov 
ernor  Ortega."  Thus  saying,  our  horses'  heads  were 


The  Boy  Captive  251 


wheeled  towards  Mexico  and  we  were  forced  on  at 
full  speed  by  lancers  on  either  side  of  us." 

THE   CHARGE   OVER   THE   GUARDS. 

"Among  the  privates  foremost  in  the  charge,  as 
well  as  in  bringing  about  the  results — and  to  their 
lasting  honor,  we  record  their  names — were  Dr.  R.  F. 
Brenham,  S.  H.  Walker,  J.  J-  Cooke,  Colonel  William 
P.  Wilson,  Patrick  Lyons,  and  others.  The  officers 
were  generally  in  favor  of  the  attempt ;  and  at  the  ap 
pointed  time,  the  lamented  Cameron,  with  a  quick 
coolness  peculiar  to  him  in  trying  emergencies,  raised 
his  hat,  and  giving  a  gentle  flourish  in  the  air,  said  in 
a  distinct  tone,  a  little  mixed  with  his  Highland 
brogue,  "Well,  boys,  we  will  go  it!"  Thus  saying, 
and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  grappled  one 
of  the  sentinels  at  the  inner  door  of  their  prison-yard, 
while  Samuel  H.  Walker  seized  the  other.  It  was  the 
work  of  an  instant  to  upset  and  disarm  these,  and  get 
possession  of  the  outer  court  where  the  arms  and  car 
tridges  boxes  were  guarded  by  one  hundred  and  fifty 
infantry.  These  men  were  quickly  driven  out  or  made 
to  surrender;  and  while  our  men  were  arming  them 
selves  and  securing  ammunition,  the  cavalry  had 
formed  in  front  of  the  outer  gate,  which  was  also 
guarded  by  the  company  of  "Red  Caps."  In  charg 
ing  through  this  gate  to  drive  this  company  and  the 
cavalry,  poor  Doctor  Brenham  and  Patrick  Lyon  fell, 
and  several  others  were  wounded.  That  portion  of 
the  cavalry  which  was  mounted,  quickly  fell  back  be- 


252  The  Boy  Captive 

yond  the  reach  of  our  fire,  while  the  "Red  Caps" 
retreated  round  the  main  wall  of  the  buildings  to 
the  south,  through  the  gate  into  the  courtyard  which 
our  party  had  just  before  left.  A  portion  of  our  men 
pressed  around  to  force  this  gate,  believing  still  that 
we  were  in  our  quarters.  Here  Captain  Fitzgerald 
received  his  death  wound  and  John  Stansbury,  quite 
a  boy,  had  his  left  eye  shot  out.  The  company  of 
"Red  Caps"  soon  capitulated  and  gave  up  their 
arms;  the  only  condition  which  our  men  required  of 
Colonel  Barragan  in  releasing  them  was  that  our 
wounded  should  be  treated  kindly. 

"We  had  three  killed,  Dr.  Brenham,  Lyon  and 
Rice;  Captain  Fitzgerald  and  John  Higgerson  were 
mortally  wounded  and  died  soon  after ;  Captain  J.  R. 
Baker,  Private  Stansbury,  Hancock,  Trehern,  and 
Harvey,  wounded.  The  enemy's  loss  was  nine  or  ten 
killed  and  many  more  badly  wounded.  From  the  dif 
ficulty  of  getting  arms  in  the  commencement  of  the 
action  it  was  not  possible  that  more  than  one-half  of 
our  two  hundred  and  fourteen  men,  with  the  excep 
tion  of  those  who  fought  with  brickbats,  could  have 
been  engaged. 

"When  the  main  body  of  our  men  were  marched 
from  Matamoras,  a  negro  fellow  by  the  name  of 
Swaney,  who  some  years  before  had  absconded  from 
Texas  and  taken  up  his  abode  in  that  city,  seeing 
that  it  was  a  good  chance  for  him  to  speculate  off  his 
old  acquaintances,  followed  them  on  to  the  place,  and 


The  Boy  Captive  253 

on  the  route  swindled  all  who  dealt  with  him  for 
chile,  tortillas,  frijoles,  etc.  No  sooner,  however, 
did  the  Texans  charge  their  guard,  than  he  exclaimed, 
"This  is  no  place  for  Swaney,"  and,  very  wisely,  did 
not  wait  to  suit  the  action  to  the  word,  for  his  double- 
quick  time  had  already  preceded  his  prudent  conclu 
sion  ;  and  well  it  did,  as  he  would  have  paid  dearly  for 
his  speculation  and  insolence  had  he  been  taken. 


Green's  Mier  Expedition — pp.  155  157. 


THE  DRAWING  OF 
THE  BEAN 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  DRAWING  OF  THE  BEAN. 


ON  THE  25th  day  of  March,  1843,  at  the  Haci 
enda  de   Salado,  in  the  State  of  San  Luis 
Potosi,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty-three  miles 
from  the  city  of  that  name,  in  a  great  barren  plain, 
filled  with  Spanish  daggers  and  desolation  beyond 
words  to  express,  a  strange  scene  was  enacted. 

One  hundred  and  seventy  gaunt,  haggard  scare 
crows  of  humanity  were  drawn  up  in  lines  within  the 
same  enclosure,  that  on  the  eleventh  of  February  had 
witnessed  their  wild  break  for  liberty.  A  month's 
wanderings  in  the  wilderness,  with  a  blazing  sun  by 
day,  and  a  winter's  chill  by  night,  with  starvation 
and  thirst  almost  driving  them  mad,  is  not  conducive 
to  beauty,  strength  or  suppleness.  They  had  lost 
their  way  and  wandered  in  the  thorny  desert  until 
thirst  had  forced  them  to  kill  their  animals  and  drink 
the  blood  and  eat  the  raw  flesh.  It  is  useless  to  at- 

16 


256  The  Boy  Captive 

tempt  to  depict  their  sufferings.  Words  can  never 
equal  the  reality.  Irons  were  on  their  wasted  limbs 
and  their  tattered  clothing  showed  the  extent  to  which 
they  had  suffered. 

The  first  order  from  Santa  Anna  was  that  all  the 
Texans  should  be  shot,  but  Colonel  Mexia,  who  was  in 
command,  declined  to  carry  out  the  order.  He  was 
the  same  Mexia  who  espoused  the  cause  of  Maximil- 
lian  and  was  executed  by  his  side.  They  had  not  long 
to  wait  before  a  second  order  was  received. 

Colonel  Huerta  was  talking  to  another  officer. 
Those  who  understood  Spanish  leaned  eagerly  for 
ward,  those  who  did  not,  looked  at  the  speaker  and 
then  at  their  more  accomplished  comrades  with  keen 
anxiety  on  their  pallid,  unshaven  faces. 

All  soon  knew.    Every  tenth  man  was  to  be  shot ! 

There  were  one  hundred  and  seventy  of  them.  That 
meant  seventeen.  Only  seventeen  out  of  one  hun 
dred  and  seventy!  But  who  were  the  seventeen  to 
be  offered  up  as  a  sacrifice  for  their  comrades? 

The  problem  was  easy.  A  common  clay  jar  covered 
with  a  cloth  was  held  by  a  soldier.  This  jar  contained 
one  hundred  and  sixty  white  beans,  on  top  of  these 
were  laid  seventeen  black  beans.  Seventeen  black 
beans!  Seventeen  brave  men  to  be  offered  for  all ! 

The  prisoners  names  were  called  alphabetically  and 
the  poor  fellows  at  the  end  of  the  list  felt  the  cold 
shudders  of  nervous  suspense,  thrill  over  them,  for 
few  black  beans  had  been  drawn. 


The  Boy  Captive  257 

The  officers  led  the  pitiful  procession.  Captain 
Ewen  Cameron  was  first.  He  drew  a  white  bean- 
"Dip  deep,  boys!"  he  whispered,  for  he  had  discov 
ered  that  the  black  beans  were  on  top.  The  warning 
was  whispered  all  down  the  ragged  line.  Captain 
Eastland,  the  commander  of  the  LaGrange  men  drew 
the  first  black  bean. 

"Death  has  no  terror  for  me!"  he  said.  "But  I 
hope  some  of  you  will  live  to  see  ample  reparation  for 
this,  and  that  you'll  never  lay  down  your  arms  till 
the  liberty  of  Texas  is  assured." 

Many  of  the  men  maintained  a  rude  hilarity,  no 
doubt  to  conceal  their  true  emotions,  for  it  was  a  very 
different  kind  of  courage  that  was  needed  to  meet 
this  ordeal,  than  that  which  faces  an  open  field  and  no 
favor. 

One  by  one  they  dipped  their  sunburned  hands 
into  the  jar  of  death.  Now  the  smooth  boyish  hand 
of  a  stripling;  now  a  gnarled,  rough  hand  used  to  a 
plow.  Then  a  well-shaped  hand  used  to  penning 
deeds  and  contracts.  This  steady  hand  without  a 
tremor,  has  wielded  a  surgeon's  scalpel.  This  one, 
with  sinews  like  little  cords  of  steel,  has  held  the  lar 
iat  on  many  a  plunging  steer  or  wilder  bronco.  The 
hand  of  the  young — the  middle-aged — the  old,  all 
making  blind  choice  of  Life  or  Death! 

Near  the  end  of  the  line  is  our  friend,  Big  Foot 
Wallace.  His  black  head  towers  above  his  companions 
and  his  face  can  be  seen  above  all.  It  looks  serene 


258  The  Boy  Captive 

and  untroubled  as  though  the  jar  held  a  piece  of  gold 
for  each  man.  His  hand  was  the  largest  of  all  the 
hands  that  had  been  thrust  in  the  small  neck  of  the 
jar.  As  he  drew  it  out  with  some  little  difficulty,  the 
Mexican  caught  it  in  his  own  small,  brown  hand  and 
holding  it  up  to  view,  made  some  jocular  remark  re 
garding  its  size  to  the  surrounding  soldiers.  The 
piercing,  black  eyes  of  Wallace  looked  at  his  stead 
fastly,  then,  without  change  of  countenance,  he  drop 
ped  the  white  bean  he  had  drawn-  His  hand  released, 
he  clanked  back  with  Sesinbaugh,  his  partner  in 
chains,  and  watched  the  next  poor  fellow  try  his  fate. 

At  last  the  dread  ordeal  was  over,  and  the  seven 
teen  freed  from  their  shackles,  dry-eyed  and  calm, 
were  watched  by  their  ragged  comrades,  dragging 
their  heavy  irons  along  out  of  the  courtyard  into  the 
dusty  road.  The  seventeen  had  done  with  marching. 

General  Green  and  Colonel  Fisher  were  some  dis 
tance  in  advance  of  the  men  who  had  made  the  break 
for  liberty,  and  so  did  not  know  until  long  afterward 
the  fate  of  their  comrades,  nor  did  they  participate  in 
the  bean  drawing.  On  arriving  in  Mexico  City,  these 
officers  were  given  temporary  quarters  in  the  Arch 
bishop's  Palace  in  Tacubaya,  a  few  miles  from  the 
Mexican  Capital. 

Of  all  the  Texans,  General  Green  had  the  least 
right  to  expect  clemency  from  Santa  Anna,  for  he 
was  associated  with  one  of  the  most  unpleasant  expe 
riences  of  Santa's  imprisonment  in  Texas;  and  his 


The  Boy  Captive 


259 


captivity  was  fraught  with  much  unpleasantness,  for 
the  Texans  were  full  of  hatred,  yet  bore  his  rule  be 
cause  no  man  strong  enough  to  deliver,  had  risen  as 
yet  to  their  rescue. 

The  Texans  never  dreamed  that  the  President  of 
Texas  had  repudiated  all  responsibility  of  their  expe 
dition.  The  expedition  he  had  sent  to  the  border 
under  the  leadership  of  General  Sommervelle  had  dis 
banded.  General  Houston  now  asked  of  the  Mexican 
Government  that  the  Texans  should  be  dealt  with 
leniently.  All  this  was  strictly  true,  but  it  is  hardly 
possible  that  General  Houston  fully  realized  the  un 
happy  position  in  which  it  placed  the  men.  But  as 
Texas  was  in  no  position  to  undertake  a  war  with 
Mexico,  it  was  hard  on  everybody  concerned. 

The  further  fact  that  the  men  of  the  Santa  Fe 
Expedition  had  been  free  only  a  short  time  previous, 
made  their  case  more  desperate,  but  all  this  they  did 
not  realize  until  long  after. 


The  Plaza  in  Mier 


260  The  Boy  Captive 

Immediately  after  the  arrival  of  General  Green 
and  Colonel  Fisher:  General  Waddy  Thompson, 
United  States  minister  to  Mexico,  Mr.  Packenham, 
the  British  Minister,  called  upon  them  to  offer  any 
thing  in  their  power,  in  their  behalf.  Then,  as  now, 
no  country  in  the  world  looks  more  carefully  after  its 
subjects. 

General  Green  made  haste  to  warn  Mr.  Packenham 
in  behalf  of  Captain  Cameron,  who  was  a  Scotchman, 
and,  as  the  leader  of  the  attempt  to  escape,  would  be 
apt  to  suffer  the  death  penalty-  The  good  news  that 
the  order  for  the  wholesale  shooting  of  the  Texans 
had  been  revoked,  made  all  feel  easier,  but  they  still 
were  afraid  for  Captain  Cameron.  So  strong  was 
this  young  Scotchman's  personality,  that  all  the  men 
of  the  expedition  had  learned  to  love  him  as  well  as 
to  admire  his  reckless  bravery. 

General  Green  and  his  brother  officers  did  not  long 
remain  at  the  Mexican  Capital,  and  from  the  journal 
of  this  fine  old  patriot  and  soldier,  we  read  that  "on 
March  25th,  we  had  five  leagues  this  day  to  march 
before  reaching  the  Castle  Perote.  Upon  our  arrival 
at  the  village  of  Perote,  in  looking  north  about  one 
mile,  we  could  see  the  massive  walls  of  the  castle,  with 
its  numerous  port-holes  and  dark  mouthed  artillery. 
The  great  extent  of  ground  covered  by  the  castle  wall 
and  the  earthen  embankment  around  the  outer  "che- 
vaux  de  frise"  gave  this  fortification  a  low  appear 
ance,  and,  at  first  sight  we  were  struck  with  the  mag- 


The  Boy  Captive  261 

nitude  of  its  strength.  Upon  nearer  approach  in  mak 
ing  our  way  through  its  winding  entrance,  and  across 
the. drawbridge  over  the  great  moat,  thence  through  an 
archway  into  the  great  plaza  fronting  the  governor's 
quarters,  amid  the  roll  of  drums,  the  din  of  arms,  and 
the  clank  of  the  chains,  opened  our  eyes  to  the  real 
ities  of  imprisonment,  and  showed  us  what  abler  pens 
than  mine  have  described  as  the  most  approved  forti 
fication  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Here  we  met  in 
rags  and  chains  fifty  of  our  countrymen,  who  had 
been  kidnapped  from  their  homes  in  San  Antonio, 
Texas,  the  September  previous,  by  General  Woll." 

The  other  Texans  who  had  drawn  beans,  in  heavy 
chains,  now  moved  on  toward  the  Mexican  Capital. 
Billie,  Harvey,  Orlando  and  Gilbert  having  drawn 
white  beans,  were  as  cheerful  as  though  they  had  not 
known  this  terrible  ordeal,  and  the  men  also  met  the 
situation  bravely.  But  on  the  march  Captain  Ewen 
Cameron's  every  movement  was  watched  with  keenest 
interest. 

EWEN  CAMERON  THE  LION  HEARTED. 

Ewen  Cameron  was  called  the  "Lion-hearted  " 
from  the  day  the  Texans  laid  down  their  guns  at  Mier 
the  intrepid  and  lion-hearted  Captain  Ewen  Cameron 
had  been  the  leading  spirit  in  the  plans  for  escape. 
When  these  facts  were  made  known  to  Santa  Anna, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  Captain  Cameron  had 
drawn  a  white  bean,  the  order  came  when  the  Texans 


262  The  Boy  Captive 


reached  Tula,  that  for  his  leadership  he  should  yield 
up  his  life.  Upon  being  apprised  of  the  fact  while 
under  close  guard,  the  brave,  young  Scotchman's  last 
act  was  to  write  a  letter  to  the  British  Minister  at 
Mexico  remonstrating  against  the  cold-blooded  mur 
der  of  a  national  enemy  and  a  British  subject.  A 
priest,  as  usual  at  all  the  Mexican  executions,  was  in 
attendance.  He  asked  the  young  soldier  if  he  would 
like  to  confess  to  him-  "No,"  said  Cameron, 
"throughout  life  I  believe  I  have  lived  an  upright 
man  and  if  I  have  to  confess,  it  shall  be  to  my 
Maker."  His  arms  were  tied,  elbows  drawn  back 
and  when  the  guard  advanced  to  bandage  his  eyes,  he 
said  to  the  interpreter :  ' '  Tell  them  no !  Ewen  Cam 
eron  can  now,  as  he  has  often  done  before,  for  the 
liberty  of  Texas,  look  death  in  the  face  without  wink 
ing."  So  saying,  he  threw  his  hat  and  blanket  on 
the  ground,  opened  the  bosom  of  his  hunting  shirt, 
presented  his  naked  breast  and  gave  the  word: 
"Fire!" 

Captain  Cameron  was  thirty-six  years  of  age,  tall, 
well-proportioned,  and  remarkably  handsome,  weigh 
ing  about  two  hundred  pounds,  of  extraordinary  phy 
sical  powers,  which  were  in  keeping  with  his  manly 
countenance  and  lion-heart. 

To  this  noble,  adopted  son  of  Texas,  a  debt  of  grati 
tude  and  a  monument  for  his  brave  utterances  in  be 
half  of  Texas  liberty,  is  due.  No  native  of  the  soil 
could  have  been  more  heroic. 


The  Boy  Captive  263 


Tulu  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  places  in  Mexico, 
and  is  situated  forty  leagues  from  the  capital.  Here 
in  this  ancient  town,  with  its  vast  amount  of  pre 
historic  interest,  the  brave  young  Scotchman  was  laid 
to  rest. 

The  Texans  moved  slowly  forward,  and  finally 
weary  and  foot  sore  they  reached  the  Mexican  Capi 
tal,  and  were  at  once  conducted  to  the  barracks  under 
heavy  guard  and  heavily  manacled. 

These  gentlemen  were  deeply  interested  in  the 
adventures  of  the  Texans,  and  Mr.  Packenham  was 
deeply  moved  over  the  taking  off  of  the  gallant  Ewen 
Cameron. 

At  General  Thompson 's  request,  Big  Foot  began  the 
thrilling  narration  of  the  uprising  over  the  guards  of 
the  Texans,  and  of  their  terrible  sufferings.  In  his 
own  quaint  way,  Big  Foot  began  saying :  ' '  When  we 
found  we  had  outdone  the  guards  at  El  Salado,  and 
were  actually  free,  I  managed  to  get  a  big  mule  to 
ride.  At  first  it  was  our  plan  to  all  stay  together  and 
travel  night  and  day  till  we'd  got  to  the  border,  but 
even  under  these  trying  circumstances  of  making  our 
escape,  some  were  for  this  plan  while  others  opposed 
it.  So  we  all  left  the  highway  and  boldly  set  forth 
into  that  awful  wilderness,  thinking  to  make  a  short 
cut  to  the  Rio  Grande.  Soon  this  proved  to  be  a  mis 
take  and  in  the  midst  of  this  trackless  waste  filled 
with  only  Spanish  dagger  and  everything  else  that 
had  stickers  and  thorns,  our  men  broke  up  into  little 


264  The  Boy  Captive 

parties,  each  hoping  to  find  the  way  out  of  that  ter 
rible  desert- 

"We  suffered  horribly  after  a  while  for  we  could 
find  no  water  and  the  cactus  leaves  that  we  chewed 
for  their  moisture  made  our  tongues  and  lips  swell; 
then  we  had  to  kill  our  horses  for  food,  and  some  of 
us  drank  the  blood,  trying  to  slake  our  terrible  thirst. 
Some  of  the  men  died ;  a  very  few  could  not  be  be  ac 
counted  for,  and  we  hoped  they  were  successful  in 
getting  to  the  border.  The  majority  were  re-captured 
by  the  Mexican  military  who  were  on  the  alert  in 
every  direction,  well  knowing  the  awful  fate  the  poor 
fellows  had  run  upon  in  their  wild  break  for  liberty. 
They  brought  food  and  water  in  plenty  with  them, 
anticipating  the  terrible  condition  in  which  they 
would  find  us." 

Continuing,  Big  Foot  said:  "I  had  been  without 
water  for  five  days,  when  my  companions  were  re 
taken.  I  had  killed  my  mule  and  dried  its  meat  and 
had  it  in  my  wallet.  A  Mexican  soldier  had  a  gallon 
gourd  half  full  of  water  and  he  gave  it  to  me  to  drink. 
One  of  the  officers  noticing  this,  warned  me  not  to 
drink  too  much  at  a  time  or  it  would  kill  me.  The 
soldier  tried  to  take  the  gourd  away,  but  as  he  was 
short  and  I  was  tall,  he  could  not  reach  it;  several 
of  his  comrades  tried  to  assist  him,  but  I  easily  held  it 
out  of  their  reach,  tilting  my  head  back  and  holding 
the  gourd  up  till  I  drained  the  last  delicious  drop. 
The  fellow  said  I  fell  to  the  ground  and  went  to  sleep. 


Big  Foot  Wallace  Lost  in  the  Desert 


The  Boy  Captive  •     267 


But  the  little  Mexican  thought  I  was  dying.  I  slept  a 
long  time  and  woke  up  as  'good  as  new,'  and  pro 
ceeded  to  lunch  on  my  dried  mule." 

Big  Foot  insisted  that  Billie  should  tell  something 
about  what  happened  at  El  Salado,  so  at  once  he  be 
gan  by  stating :  "It  was  on  the  eleventh  of  February 
and  every  day  took  us  farther  from  the  border." 

"Brother  Charley  (Captain  Charles  Reese),  was 
awful  worried;  he  didn't  care  a  bit  whether  he  got 
out  alive  or  dead,  if  the  rest  wanted  to  try,  but  he  did 
believe  we  had  one  chance  in  a  thousand  to  get  home. 
There  was  not  a  man  that  knew  the  country,  and  you 
never  saw  a  more  God-forsaken  region  in  all  your 
life. 

"It  is  absolutely  waterless  and  as  barren  as  a  des 
ert.  You  loll  with  the  heat  in  the  daytime,  and  freeze 
to  death  at  night.  But  Charley  would  have  risked 
it  all,  if  I  would  have  promised  to  stay  behind!  But 
you  bet  this  child  promised  nothing!  If  he  went,  I 
went,  and  his  company  staid  by  him,  none  of  us  tried 
to  get  away- 

"The  morning  of  the  eleventh  we  felt  pretty  ner 
vous.  Captain  Cameron  was  to  give  the  signal  and  I 
thought  Charley  would  change  his  mind  when  the 
time  came  but  he  didn't.  We  had  picked  up  two  of 
the  San  Antonio  men,  Archie  Fitzgerald  and  a  man 
by  the  name  of  Higgerson,  both  were  killed  and  so 
was  Lorenzo  Bice. 

"We  felt  pretty  blue  after  it  was  all  over,  and  the 


268  The  Boy  Captive 

rest  were  gone.  It  made  Charley  sick  to  think  that 
they  might  think  him  a  coward,  but  Dan  Henrie 
heard  Ampudia  tell  Colonel  Fisher  to  warn  his  men 
against  trying  to  make  their  escape;  that  their  lives 
would  be  forfeited  if  the  men  got  away.  Colonel 
Fisher  told  Captain  Cameron  to  use  his  own  judg 
ment  in  this  matter,  but  General  Green  told  them  to 
take  the  first  chance  they  got  and  break  for  home. ' ' 

' '  I  never  even  thought  when  I  was  fighting,  whether 
I  would  be  killed  or  not.  I  didn't  care!"  "But  that 
bean  business  was  as  bad  as  ghosts, ' '  said  Harvey  who 
was  near  at  hand. 

"That  it  was,"  said  Wallace.  "Worse  than  Injuns. 
I  was  nearly  at  the  last  and  I  knew  that  there  were 
about  as  many  black  beans  as  white  ones,  and  the 
black  ones  were  a  leetle  the  biggest,  but  they  felt  just 
the  same.  So,  I  let  go,  and  took  two  more  and  fing 
ered  them  and  then  I  pulled  out  my  hand  and  I  had 
a  white  bean." 

"There  was  an  Irishman  who  stuck  his  hand  in  the 
jar,  and  when  there  were  so  few  beans  he  jerked  his 
hand  out  empty.  He  shook  his  fist  at  the  officer  and 
he  says: 

"Now  that's  the  way  ye  would  desave  an  innocent 
man  to  his  destruction.  Faith  an'  I'll  not  draw  one 
of  thim.  There  is  only  a  few  banes  in  the  pot ! ' ' 

They  told  him  he  had  to  draw.  Says  he,  'An  it's 
after  murthering  me  yez  are!  Ye  bloody  spalpeens! 
Ye  indacent  bastes!  Ye  not  giving  a  man  a  joodge 


The  Boy  Captive  269 

nor  jury  naythar;  that's  as  plain  as  the  noses  on  yes 
baboon  faces!  Let  the  ither  men  pick  and  choose  as 
plazed  thim  bist  from  a  pot  full  of  banes,  an'  now 
there 's  not  a  doozen  left ! ' ' 

He  stuck  his  hand  in,  grumbling  all  the  time,  and 
I  declare  I  could  not  help  but  grin  to  hear  him  calling 
them  the  awfullest  names  and  they  not  understand 
ing.  But  we  all  watched  him,  Mexicans  as  well  as 
us,  and  he  pulled  out  a  white  bean!  He  just  took 
that  bean  and  shook  it  under  the  noses  of  the  officers, 
and  he  says : 

11  'An'  now  there,  ye  dirty  naygurs!  It  started 
black,  but  I  offered  up  a  prayer  to  me  saint,  and  St. 
Patrick  he  changed  it  from  a  black  to  a  white  wan! 
Hooray  for  me,  St.  Patrick  and  ould  Ireland  for- 
iver ! ' ' 

"The  boys  that  got  the  black  beans  were  awful 
brave  about  it,"  said  Big  Foot  after  a  while.  "I 
reckon  they  are  better  off  than  we  are  but  a  man 
hates  to  die  that  way.  If  ever  I  get  out  again,  I  will 
even  up  that  score!  Ewen  Cameron  took  his  chance 
at  the  beans  like  the  rest  of  -us  and  he  was  free.  That 
hound  Santa  Anna  had  no  business  to  go  back  on 
it!" 

"Guess  there  isn't  any  difference  in  the  experi 
ences  of  any  of  the  Texans,  except  those  unfortunate 
men  who  drew  black  beans.  It's  about  the  most  hor 
rible  risk  I  ever  took,  for  I  was  sure  that  I  'd  pull  out 
a  black  one." 


270  The  Boy  Captive 

Turning  to  Mr.  Thompson,  Big  Foot  asked  if  he 
had  noticed  the  escopetas  the  Mexican  soldiers  use. 
Mr.  Thompson  answering  in  the  negative,  Big  Foot 
continued : 

"You  needn't  ever  want  to  shoot  one  of  them." 

"What  are  they  like,  Mr.  Wallace?"  asked  Thomp 
son. 

"Like?"  said  Big  Foot,  "why  the  blamed  things 
they're  a  kind  of  a  bell-mounted-bull-doggish  looking 
musket,  carrying  a  very  heavy  ball,  which  is  death  by 
law  when  it  hits,  but  that  is  seldom.  I  never  fired  one 
but  once,  and  that  was  at  the  battle  of  El  Salado, 
near  San  Antonio.  During  the  fight,  I  saw  a  dead 
Mexican  with  one  in  his  hands.  My  rifle  was  empty, 
so  I  took  his  and  put  the  breach  to  my  shoulder;  my 
first  impression  was  that  I  had  been  struck  with  a 
nine  pound  cannon  ball.  It  kicked  me  heels  over 
head,  and  I  suppose  kept  on  kicking  me  after  I  was 
down,  for  when  I  "came  to"  I  found  that  my  nose 
was  unjointed,  and  two  of  my  ribs  stove  in.  I  noticed 
that  the  Mexicans  never  put  them  to  their  heads. ' ' 

The  Texans  were  quartered  in  the  eastern  part  of 
the  city  of  Mexico.  Soon  Billie  Reese  fell  ill  at  the 
barracks,  and  was  removed  to  the  hospital  de  Jesus 
Nazareno,  one  of  the  finest  of  the  many  that 
were  established  by  Cortez,  where  he  remained 
ill  for  many  weeks.  He  was  unmindful  of 
the  crucifix  at  the  head  of  his  bed,  nor  did  he  hear  the 
soft,  low  voices  of  the  sisters  of  charity  who  gave  him 


The  Boy  Captive  271 

the  tenderest  attention,  nor  did  he  see  the  face  of  the 
Holy  Mother  that  looked  down  from  the  wall  near  by. 
His  mind  seemed  to  dwell  upon  his  boy  comrade,  poor 
little  Chris  Yocum,  who  had  met  a  tragic  death  by 
accident  near  Mier. 

"They  are  going  to  leave  him  out  there  alone  with 
the  wolves  and  the  snakes  and  owls !  Put  lots  of  rocks 
on  him!  Cayotes  are  so  bad!  Poor,  poor  Chris 
Yocum!  Poor,  poor  boy!"  he  exclaimed  over  and 
over  again.  His  voice  trailed  off  into  a  sob  and  Har 
vey  and  Gilbert  gulped  sympathetically  as  it  all  came 
back  to  them. 

"  0 !  I  'm  so  thirsty !  Won 't  he  let  us  stop  to  get 
some  water?  Look  how  cool  it  looks!  Drip — drip — 
drip  from  the  bucket.  Charley  beg  him  to  stop 
for  water!  Water!  Water!  I  want  water!  He  is  a 
devil !  The  devil  won 't  let  people  have  water !  Water ! 
Water ! ' '  His  voice  rose  to  a  frenzied  shriek. 

"Here!"  said  Harvey,  snatching  the  water  bottle 
off  the  table  and  holding  it  to  Billie's  parched  lips. 
"Drink,  Billie!  Here's  water!  Drink!" 

"Stop  boys,  you'll  kill  him,"  said  one  of  the  older 
men.  "They  never  let  them  drink  water  when  they 
have  fever."  Everyone  near  was  frightened,  for  it 
was  the  belief  of  the  time  that  water  was  injurious  to 
a  fever  patient. 

"It's  too  late  now,"  said  Harvey,  half  scared  and 
half  triumphant.  "He  has  got  a  good  swig  now,  you 
bet!  Look,  he  is  going  to  sleep."  The  two  boys  sat 

17 


272 


The  Boy  Captive 


in  thankful  silence,  grateful  that  the  ravings  that  told 
such  dreadful  tales  of  suffering,  were  hushed  for  a 
little  while. 


SANTA  ANNA  AND 
ORLANDO 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


SANTA  ANNA  AND  ORLANDO. 

SE  8IENTA  un  poco  triste,  El  Muchachito,  esta 
mananaf  (Is  the  little  boy  feeling  sad  this 
morning?)  The  soldier  was  making  his 
beat,  before  the  great  door  of  the  National  Palace  and 
Juan  was  leaning  against  the  portal,  gazing  wistfully 
upon  the  busy  scenes  of  the  streets  concentrating  in 
front  of  the  Palace. 

Juan  turned  and  looked  earnestly  into  the  weaz 
en,  wrinkled  face  of  the  old  Indian  soldier,  who 
was  gazing  upon  the  boy  with  a  look  of  deep  con 
cern. 

"Yes,"  replied  Juan,  "I  am  sad  today,  am  sad 
every  day,  how  can  it  be  otherwise,  when  I  am  a 
stranger  and  the  fate  of  my  father  and  brother,  as 
well  as  all  the  Texans  is  still  a  mystery  to  me.  Here 
I  have  been  two  months,  and  although  everybody  has 
been  so  very  good  to  me,  far  better  than  I  deserve, 
still  a  fellow  naturally  longs  for  his  own.  It's  so 
strange  the  Texans  don't  come  on,  if  any  of  them 
are  alive." 

"No  se  apure  mas  muchachito,"  (Little  boy,  don't 
worry  any  more  now. )  ' '  Today  I  heard  in  the  Palace 
that  some  of  these  prisoners  would  arrive,  perhaps 
your  father  and  brother,  or  your  friends  may  be 
among  them;  I  hope  so,  and  that  God  may  take  care 


276  The  Boy  Captive 


of  them  so  that  a  good  and  a  pretty  little  boy  may 
see  them  safe  and  well,"  continued  the  soldier. 

The  words  had  scarcely  passed  the  man's  lips  when 
a  detachment  of  four,  ragged,  dirty,  unkempt,  almost 
barefooted  young  boys,  in  following  their  guard  almost 
touched  Juan's  shoulder.  They  had  passed  several 
steps  when  Juan's  keen  eyes  detected  their  identity. 
Oblivious  of  every  passing  object,  he  breathlessly  ran, 
calling  in  excited  tones:  "Here  I  am,  John  Hill, — 
Stop,  Boys !  Hello  there !  Hello !  Orlando !  Billie ! 
Harvey!  Gilbert!  All  alive  and  here  at  least,  dear 
old  boys  from  Texas ! ' ' 

The  guards  halted,  and  noting  the  elegant  Mexican 
attire  of  the  handsome  youth  who  ran  after  the  pris 
oners,  were  interested  to  see  what  it  all  meant. 
In  an  instant  the  loving  boys,  after  their  long  sepa 
ration,  their  perilous  experiences,  were  huddled  close 
together,  their  arms  on  each  other's  shoulders  with 
endearing  intimacy,  and  who  shall  say  that  in  this 
supreme  moment  joyful  tears  did  not  overflow  from 
the  youthful  eyes  of  the  young  prisoners,  thus  so 
strangely  re-united? 

Juan  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence-  "Where  is 
father,  Jeff,  and  all  the  other  Texans  ? ' '  exclaimed  the 
boy.  The  four  answered  almost  in  one  voice: 

"We  haven't  seen  Jeff  since  we  left  Mier,  you  know 
he  was  there  in  the  hospital,  but  we  know  of  most  of 
the  other  Texans;  we  were  with  them  at  El  Salado 
where  we  drew  beans  for  our  lives." 


The  Boy  Captive  277 

"Drew  beans  fof  your  lives,"  exclaimed  Juan  in 
breathless  amazement.  "Oh!  horrible!  horrible!" 

"Yes,  it  was  horrible,  but  when  Big  Foot  comes 
along  we'll  get  him  to  tell  you  how  awful  it  was," 
said  Harvey. 

"But  your  father,  we  think,  is  safe,  for  we  saw 
him  after  he  drew  his  white  bean;  but  seventeen  of 
our  good  men  drew  black  ones,  the  white  ones,  you 
know,  meant  life,  the  black  ones,  death,"  said  Or 
lando. 

"Captain  Eastland  drew  the  first  black  bean,"  said 
Gilbert. 

"Terrible!  Terrible!  such  a  good  man!"  gasped 
Juan. 

"John,  old  boy,  you're  lucky  not  to  have  been 
along,  you  would  have  had  to  draw  too,"  said  Or 
lando. 

"Say,  John!"  said  Billie,  "how  did  you  get  away 
down  here?" 

"How  did  I  get  here,"  answered  Juan.  "Pshaw! 
That's  easy  telling,  I  didn't  have  any  say  so  about 
coming,  if  I  had,  I  'd  a  stayed  right  where  I  was  in  the 
hands  of  General  Ampudia;  if  he  had  been  my  own 
father  he  couldn't  have  been  better  to  me.  I  was 
going  to  school,  learning  fast,  had  every  comfort  and 
luxi^ry  in  Matamoras,  stayed  right  by  the  General 
and  he  sent  me  to  school  in  the  care  of  an  orderly 
every  day,  and  in  the  evening  the  orderly  would  come 
and  go  back  with  me.  The  General  took  all  this  care 


278  The  Boy  Captive 

of  me  just  because  he  was  afraid  somebody  would  do 
some  harm  to  me.  Although  I  couldn  't  keep  my  mind 
off  you  all  and  father  and  Jeff,  still  General  Ampudia 
and  all  the  officers  were  so  good  to  me  that  I  couldn't 
find  it  in  my  heart  to  complain.  I  guess  I'd  a  been 
there  till  now,  and  maybe  a  long  time  for  the  General 
always  called  me  his  son,  said  he  was  going  to  adopt 
me,  but  the  President  heard  about  me,  and  so  there 
was  no  getting  around  it,  I  had  to  obey  orders.  The 
General  put  me  in  the  care  of  an  escort,  a  captain, 
a  lieutenant,  and  several  soldiers;  I  was  mounted  on 
the  prettiest  little  horse  you  ever  saw,  except  Jim 
Dandy,  that  the  General  gave  me,  and  a  burro,  on 
which  were  packed  all  my  things.  We  started  over 
land  by  way  of  Tampico  and  after  many  long  days 
of  travel  we  finally  reached  this  capital,  and  here  I 
have  been  for  more  than  a  month. ' ' 

"About  them  fine  clothes,  John,  where 'd  you  get 
'em  ?  You  're  rigged  up  like  a  son  of  a  Mexican  Gran 
dee,  wish  I  could  get  hold  of  some  such  clothes,  I'd 
wear  'em,  you  can  swear  to  that,  and  be  glad  of  the 
chance,"  said  Billie. 

The  guards  now  made  the  motion  to  move  on  in  the 
direction  of  the  barracks,  and  as  they  did  so  Billie 
called  out  in  a  lively  way:  "Say,  John,  better  keep 
a  close  watch,  your  father  might  come  along  any 
time." 

Juan  scarcely  left  the  big  door  save  to  eat  and  sleep, 
hoping  Billie 's  predictions  might  come  true.  A  few 


The  Boy  Captive  279 


days  after  this,  he  was  standing  in  the  same  spot 
straining  his  eyes  up  and  down  the  street  with  the 
hope  of  seeing  some  more  Texans.  At  last  he  was  re 
warded  for  his  faithful  waiting  for  a  group  of  four 
old  and  haggard  men  were  now  approaching. 

On  the  long  overland  march  the  older  prisoners  had 
worn  no  chains,  but  now  on  arriving  at  the  Capital 
where  the  chances  of  escape  were  greater,  the  order 
was  given  that  all  prisoners  both  young  and  old 
should  be  manacled.  They  were  passing  the  Palace, 
and  the  guards  were  preparing  to  place  the  leg  chains 
on  the  men.  Juan  noticed  this  movement  and  his 
heart  was  in  his  mouth,  for  at  this  instant  he  discov 
ered  that  the  aged,  haggard  and  forlorn  prisoner 
upon  whom  the  guards  were  about  to  fasten  these 
links  was  none  other  than  his  own  beloved  father.  In 
an  instant  he  had  fallen  upon  his  neck,  exclaiming: 
' '  Father !  Father !  Oh,  my  own  dear  father !  Come 
at  last  to  your  boy!" 

The   guards   stood   aghast  to  see   this  beautifully 
dressed  young  boy  looking  like  a  young  prince,  weep 
ing  upon  the  neck  of  this  aged  prisoner.    They  could 
not  believe  there  could  be  any  relationship  between 
the  two. 

The  guards  still  holding  the  links  ready  to  adjust 
them,  called  out,  "Away,  boy,  we  have  our  orders." 

"This  man  is  my  father,  you  shall  not  put  those 
chains  upon  him,  I  forbid  it !  I  will  go  at  once  to  the 
President." 


280  The  Boy  Captive 


The  guards  realized  that  this  boy,  staying  in  the 
Palace,  must  be  of  some  importance,  and  so  while 
Juan  went  flying  as  fast  as  his  feet  could  carry  him 
to  find  the  President,  they  stood  still  to  see  what 
would  happen  next.  Fortunately,  as  Juan  was  as 
cending  the  steps  he  met  Santa  Anna  coming  down  the 
stairs,  and  with  the  utmost  freedom  from  restraint  or 
hesitation  he  exclaimed: 

"Your  Excellency!  My  father  has  arrived,  he  is 
down  near  the  door,  the  guards  had  stopped  to  fas 
ten  the  leg  chains  on  him,  I  forbade  it !  I  would  not 
permit  them  to  put  the  chains  on  my  poor,  old  father. 
Oh!  your  Excellency,  protect  my  father.  You  know 
my  promise  to  mother;  and  father  is  pale  and  tremb 
ling,  is  sick  and — and — I  can't  do  anything  more, 
unless  you  will  help  me — ."  The  little  fellow  was 
shaking  from  head  to  foot. 

Taking  the  boy  by  the  hand  in  the  universal  Mexi 
can  custom,  Santa  Anna  in  a  manner  most  comforting 
and  reassuring  said: 

"Vente  conmigo,  yo  te  ayudare,"  (come  with  me 
I  will  help  you),  and  as  the  two  walked  along  the 
courtyard,  and  were  about  to  pass  through  the  big 
door,  the  Dictator,  in  endeavoring  to  relieve  Juan's 
nervousness,  said: 

"No  tengas  miedo  hi  jit  o,  ellos  no  le  haran  nada  a 
tu  padre'"  (Have  no  fear  my  little  son,  no  one  shall 
harm  your  father.)  They  were  soon  in  the  presence 
of  Mr.  Hill.  After  cordial  greeting  from  Santa  Anna, 


The  Boy  Captive  281 

an  interesting  conversation  took  place.  Mr.  Hill  was 
sent  to  the  best  hospital  where  every  attention  and 
kindness  was  shown  him,  and  Juan  visited  him  every 
day,  each  time  taking  something  dainty,  which  the 
good  Dona  Dolores  had  herself  prepared  for  him. 

Santa  Anna  kept  himself  advised  of  Mr.  Hill's  con 
dition,  and  when  he  was  restored  and  requested  to 
come  into  his  presence,  Santa  Anna  at  once  turned 
to  the  subject  near  his  heart,  and  told  Mr.  Hill  that 
if  he  would  consent  to  Juan's  remaining  in  Mexico, 
and  accepting  an  education  at  the  best  school  or  col 
lege  in  the  country,  there  should  not  be  one  dollar  of 
expense  to  him,  but  that  he  himself  would  enter  him. 

In  a  kindly,  reassuring  way,  but  still  eyeing  Mr. 
Hill  with  the  closest  scrutiny,  Santa  Anna  said: 

"If  you  consent  to  leave  Juan  here  in  my  care  to 
receive  an  education,  he  shall  have  the  best  we  have, 
and  upon  the  same  terms  as  though  he  were  a  native 
of  the  country, ' '  and  continuing,  he  said,  ' '  I  will  send 
you  and  your  other  son  home  in  safety,  as  soon  as 
everything  can  be  arranged  to  that  end." 

So  it  was  all  settled,  and  arrangements  looking  to 
the  completion  of  these  plans  went  at  once  into  effect. 

Santa  Anna  had  heard  that  four  young  boys  had 
passed  the  Palace  on  the  day  before,  and  began  to 
question  Juan  about  them.  He  was  calling  over  their 
names  and  when  he  said  "Orlando  Phelps,"  Santa 
Anna  gazed  eagerly  at  the  boy,  repeating  over  and 
over,  "Phelps,  Phelps,  why  that  is  the  name  of  that 


282  The  Boy  Captive 


good  and  noble  man  at  whose  fine  home  near  Velasco, 
Texas,  I  was  an  honored  guest.  Juan,  bring  that  boy 
named  Phelps  to  me  at  once." 

Away  went  Juan  to  fulfill  the  request,  and  in  a 
short  time  he  returned,  bringing  with  him  a  tall,  dark- 
haired  youth  of  delicate  build,  poorly  clad,  but  with  a 
strong,  manly  face,  and  a  fearlessness  of  manner 
which  added  greatly  to  his  charming  personality — 
Santa  Anna  was  simply  leaning  against  one  of  the 
pillars  which  supported  the  tall  ceiling  of  the  room, 
and  in  the  most  informal  manner,  bade  the  boys  come 
nearer.  He  began  by  addressing  Orlando,  saying: 

"Juan  tells  me  your  name  is  Phelps,  and  that  you 
are  a  son  of  Dr.  Phelps  on  the  Orizimbo  plantation; 
is  this  true  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  Your  Excellency,  I  have  the  honor  of  calling 
Dr.  Phelps  father,  and  although  I  was  a  very  small 
boy  when  you  were  at  our  house,  still  I  remember  you 
very  well,  indeed." 

"Why,  your  father  saved  my  life  and  in  his  home 
I  was  treated  as  a  member  of  the  family,  and  now  my 
son,  you  must  permit  me  to  request  you  to  come  at 
once  to  this  Palace  and  become  the  guest  of  my  wife, 
Dona  Dolores  de  Tosta  and  myself,  for  just  as  long 
a  time  as  it  may  please  you,  and  everything  that  is 
possible  for  us  to  do  for  you  shall  be  done. ' ' 

Orlando  gazed  with  astonishment  upon  the  Great 
Dictator,  and  began  saying  he  was  not  situated  so 
that  he  could  come  into  such  a  splendid  Palace.  He 


The  Boy  Captive  283 

had  been  away  from  home  a  long  time,  and — and — 

"Not  another  word,  my  young  friend,"  said  Santa 
Anna,  "I  understand." 

Turning  to  an  orderly,  he  directed  that  a  room  ad 
joining  Juan's  be  made  ready  for  the  young  Texan 
to  occupy.  His  own  tailor  was  commanded  to  come  at 
once  and  make  the  best  clothes  that  could  be  procured, 
and  they  were  to  be  completed  immediately. 

Juan  and  Orlando  were  now  making  preparations 
to  go  out  for  a  stroll — it  was  the  first  time  the  former 
had  put  on  his  new  clothes  which  Santa  Anna  had  had 
made  for  him,  and  both  boys  were  now  making  their 
toilet  with  much  care,  for  they  were  to  visit  several 
places  of  interest  in  company  with  Augustin  and 
Manuel  Tornel  and  some  of  their  Mexican  boy  friends. 

"Billie  is  sick;  I'm  sorry  he  won't  be  able  to  go 
with  us  and  see  the  sights,"  said  Juan  regretfully,  as 
he  watched  Orlando  carefully  adjusting  his  cravat 
before  the  mirror. 

Orlando  was  a  philosopher,  and  his  bits  of  wisdom 
helped  Juan  through  many  a  vexing  question.  He 
pursed  up  his  lips,  and  thrust  out  his  chin,  as  he  gave 
the  final  wrap  to  the  voluminous  tie,  and  turned  his 
mind  on  the  exact  position  of  the  brooch  that  held  his 
shirt  frill  in  place.  This  finished,  he  turned  to  put 
on  his  vest,  a  dainty,  white  corded  affair  with  large 
pearl  buttons,  which  adde^  to  the  elegance  of  his  cos 
tume. 


284  The  Boy  Captive 

1 '  So  am  I, ' '  said  Orlando  briefly,  as  he  gazed  admir 
ingly  at  the  fit  of  his  trousers  that  tapered  so  neatly 
to  the  little  straps  that  held  them  close  to  the  instep 
of  his  varnished  boots. 

Juan  stared  in  astonishment  at  the  elegant  young 
man  of  fashion.  Orlando  was  admiring  his  coat  pre 
vious  to  putting  it  on  ,and  we  are  sure  he  was  enjoy 
ing  in  advance  the  pleasure  of  plenty  of  nice,  clean, 
fashionably  made  clothing  for  the  first  time  in  many 
months,  Orlando  was  enjoying  it  as  no  one  who  had 
not  had  his  previous  experience  could  do. 

"Seems  to  me,"  he  said,  "I  enjoy  clean  clothes 
more  than  I  used  to  a  home;  when  a  fellow  has  had 
to  carry  a  select  and  large  assortment  of  vermin  in  his 
underwear,  and  knows  that  his  trousers  need  patches 
all  over,  one  might  say,  why — I  tell  you,  old  man,  it's 
just  sublime — to — to — have  all  this!"  he  waved  his 
hand  around  at  the  luxuriously  appointed  apartment, 
and  then  glanced  in  the  mirror  at  his  faultless  appear 
ance. 

Juan  gave  a  satisfied  glance  at  his  own  elegant 
attire,  and  though  it  wasn't  the  kind  he'd  rather  wear, 
still  it  was  truly  handsome  and  he  felt  nice  and  looked 
nice  in  it.  Big  silver  buttons  adorned  his  short  black 
jacket;  double  rows  of  tiny  ones  studded  the  outer 
seams  of  his  trousers;  and  he  remembered  the  silver 
braid  that  ornamented  his  neck;  and  then  the  silken 
red  sash  around  his  slender  waist  set  off  the  shirt  frill, 
and  when  he  looked  at  his  beautiful  hat  a  flush  rose 


The  Boy  Captive  285 


to  his  face,  and  he  couldn't  help  a  feeling  of  satisfac 
tion  at  his  appearance,  but  what  awful  things  Billie 
would  say ! 

"I  don't  believe  I'll  go,"  he  said,  "Billie  loves  to 
make  fun  of  everything.  I  'd  rather  not  go  to  see  him 
now,  he'll  say  we've  both  turned  over  to  the  Mexi 
cans,"  said  Juan- 

' '  Oh,  yes,  you  will  go.  We  '11  take  our  little  dose  oi 
medicine  like  men,  then  we  will  go  on  our  way  rejoic 
ing.  Poor  old  Billie  will  have  a  real  lonesome  time. 
He  don't  mean  half  he  says,  and  it  relieves  him  to 
blow  off  steam,"  said  Orlando.  "Won't  we  catch  it 
when  old  Billie  sees  our  finery;  I  look  like  a  New 
York  dandy,  but  you  are  a  Mexican  from  head  to 
heels!  Lindo  Caballero!"  said  Orlando,  fanning  him 
self  with  one  hand  in  imitation  of  the  pretty  senori- 
tas  he  had  seen  in  the  Alameda. 

"Billie  is  just  wild  I  know,"  said  Orlando,  "to 
think  Charley  had  been  taken  to  Perote.  He  ain't 
even  glad  he  is  to  go  home,  but  declares  he  is  going 
to  ask  the  President  to  let  him  go  to  Perote  and  take 
Charley's  place.  You  know  the  Captain  is  engaged 
to  a  lovely  girl,  and  I  reckon  the  day  was  set,  for 
Billie  is  miserable  about  it.  Poor  Charley  is  caged 
for  sure  this  time.  They  say  that  is  the  strongest 
dungeon  in  the  world.  Why,  besides  all  the  thick 
walls  and  that  sort  of  thing,  it  has  a  big  moat  around 
it ." 

"What's  a  moat?"  interrupted  Juan. 


286  The  Boy  Captive 

"A  moat  is  a er er a  kind  of  a  big 

ditch,"  said  Orlando,  desperately.  "Juan,  you  sure 
better  except  His  Excellency's  offer.  I  never  saw  a 
fellow  so  anxious  to  learn  everything.  You  can  ask 
more  questions.  You  are  a  regular  catechism." 

"Oh,  well,  I  didn't  know  you  minded  answering 
them,"  said  Juan  flushing  up. 

"I  don't  when  7  know  the  answer,"  said  Orlando, 
comically.  "The  trouble  is  you  make  me  see  what  a 
lot  I  don't  know.  I'm  going  to  study  when  I  get 
home;  but  if  His  Excellency  had  made  me  the  offer 
he  made  you ." 

"What  would  you  do?" 

"I'd  fall  on  his  neck  and  hug  him!  I'd  even  un 
screw  his  wooden  leg!" 

"I  don't  think  it  screws,"  said  Juan,  in  a  matter 
of-fact  way  ,"I  think  it  is  strapped  on." 

"Why  don't  you  ask  him?"  said  Orlando,  teas- 
ingly. 

"I  am  afraid  he  might  kick  me  with  it." 

"I  don't  believe  his  wife  would  let  him.  Dona 
Dolores  is  as  much  smitten  with  the  idea  of  adopting 
you  as  he  is. ' ' 

"She  is  a  loving  lady.  She  is  so  good  everybody 
loves  her,  and  those  that  like  him,  think  heaps  of 
him,"  said  Juan. 

"And  those  that  don't,  don't.  Just  so.  He  is  a 
wonderful  man.  Come  on,  and  let's  go  see  Billie, 
before  we  start  out.  You  and  I  have  little  to  grumble 


The  Boy  Captive  287 


about  for  you  have  a  pretty  good  chance  of  getting 
your  father  and  brother  free.  Certainly  Santa  Anna 
could  not  expect  you  to  stay  here  as  his  son  when  your 
real  father  and  brother  were  in  prison.  He  would  not 
even  like  you  if  you  were  that  kind  of  a  boy-" 

The  two  boys  stepped  out  on  the  broad  corridor 
that  overlooked  the  patio.  The  trees  rustled  softly 
in  the  breeze,  and  the  stone  pavement  below  was 
checkered  with  lights  and  shadows.  Through  their 
waving  boughs  could  be  seen  the  servants  lounging  in 
their  quarters.  The  stamping  of  horses'  hoofs 
mingled  with  their  voices  and  the  harsh  clattering  of 
the  parrots  amusing  themselves  with  the  gymnastics 
favored  of  their  kind.  Many  mocking  birds  in  cages, 
and  canaries  were  singing  their  sweet  notes.  The 
dogs  stretched  out  lazily,  were  trying  to  snatch  a  little 
repose,  and  now  turned  to  gaze  at  our  young  gentle 
men  as  they  passed,  and  flowering  vines  and  shrubs, 
beautiful  and  strange  were  everywhere.  In  passing 
along  the  corridor,  the  boys  unexpectedly  came  upon 
Dona  Dolores  with  the  ladies  of  her  family.  She 
greeted  the  boys  kindly,  chatted  with  them  pleasantly, 
and  Juan,  who  had  acquired  much  Spanish,  was  able 
to  answer  her  polite  inquiries,  as  well  as  to  return 
her  courteous  interest. 

Orlando  was  much  impressed  by  the  kindness  of 
both  Santa  Anna  and  his  amiable  wife  toward  Juan 
and  himself  and,  while  walking  along,  the  conversa 
tion  of  the  boys  turned  upon  the  offer1  of  Santa  Anna 

18 


238  The  Boy  Captive 


concerning  an  education  for  Juan  in  Mexico. 

"It's  a  great  offer;  yes,  a  remarkable  one,"  said 
Orlando. 

"But  what  will  mother  think  of  my  not  coming 
home,"  said  Juan. 

' '  Well,  if  you  refuse  to  accept  the  President 's  offer, 
she  may  have  to  cry  for  three  instead  of  one.  I  don't 
believe  your  father  and  brother  would  find  prison 
fare  a  bit  sweeter  because  you  shared  it.  On  the  con 
trary,  your  father  said  to  all  of  us  that  it  lifted  a  bur 
den  of  distress  from  his  mind  because  he  let  you  come 
on  this  expedition,  when  he  saw  Ampudia  would  not 
let  you  suffer  the  penalty.  You  better  think  it  all 
over  seriously  before  you  decide  that  you  won't  ac 
cept,"  said  Orlando. 

"Father  will  settle  everything  for  me  before  he 
goes  home. ' ' 

At  this  moment  Juan  recognized  the  carriage  of  the 
President  in  which  were  seated  the  President  and 
General  Tornel  in  their  splendid  uniforms.  They 
both  greeted  the  boys  cordially,  bowing  in  a  friendly 
way  till  they  had  passed  from  view- 
Juan  was  the  first  to  speak,  and  turning  to  his 
companion  he  said: 

"When  the  President  was  a  prisoner  in  Texas  he 
stayed  at  your  house,  didn't  he?  Your  father 
pumped  the  poison  out  of  him  the  time  he  tried  to 
commit  suicide.  Say,  don't  it  seem  strange  how 
things  turn  around,  and  that  you  should  be  here  re- 


The  Boy  Captive  289 

turning  the  President's  visit  at  your  house,  a  prisoner 
in  his  hands,  and  he  is  trying  his  best  to  return  the 
kindness  of  your  family  to  him?" 

"I  was  only  a  small  child  when  all  that  happened, 
but  I  never  thought  then  I'd  be  here  in  the  palace  of 
the  President  of  Mexico,  much  less  a  prisoner  in  this 
country,  but  then  we  never  know  what's  going  to 
happen  to  any  of  us,"  said  Orlando. 

They  walked  from  the  plaza  on  to  the  street  on 
which  General  Thompson  lived,  but  before  they  could 
enter,  the  big  door  was  opened  by  the  portero  (door 
keeper)  and  out  came  Billie  walking  slowly  along; 
he  had  barely  recovered  from  a  dangerous  illness. 
His  first  exclamation  was : 

"Boys,  all  the  Texans  are  to  be  sent  to  Perote  to 
morrow  morning,  the  order  has  just  been  issued,  but 
I  don't  have  to  go — the  President  won't  let  me  do  a 
thing  but  go  home.  But  I  'd  rather  go  to  Perote — for 
you  know  Brer  Charley  is  engaged  to  be  married,  and 
of  course  he  can 't  when  he  is  held  a  prisoner,  but  then 
you  know  we  can't  have  our  ruthers  in  this  country." 

"Who  told  you  this?"  asked  Orlando. 

' '  General  Thompson  found  it  out  and  has  just  told 
me." 

"I  don't  have  to  go  for  I'm  going  back  to  my  dear 
old  f adder  and  mudder,  and  you'll  never  find  this 
chicken  running  around  loose,  trying  to  be  a  prisoner 
any  more,"  said  Billie. 


290  The  Boy  Captive 

"Well,"  said  Juan,  "I  don't  think  we'll  all  have  to 
go,  here's  three  right  here  that  won't,  but  I'm  awful 
sorry  that  any  of  them  will  have  to  go,  but  it  won't 
do  for  me  to  say  a  word,  because  I've  already  asked 
a  lot  of  the  President.  I  can't  ask  him  not  to  send 
them  there,  but  then  it's  kind  of  on  the  road  toward 
Vera  Cruz,  and  it  will  be  a  little  nearer  from  Perote 
than  from  here,  when  they  are  all  released  and  can  go 
home. ' ' 

The  three  boys  now  went  along  with  Billie,  discuss 
ing  the  prospects  of  the  Texans  for  getting  free. 

General  Waddy  Thompson,  in  his  "Recollections  of 
Mexico,"  page  75,  makes  reference  to  Santa  Anna's 
treatment  of  Orlando  Phelps  in  the  following  words : 
' '  On  the  arrival  of  the  prisoners  taken  at  Mier,  Santa 
Anna  ascertained  that  there  was  one  whose  name  was 
Phelps.  He  sent  for  him,  and  asked  him  if  he  were 
related  to  Dr.  Phelps,  of  Orizimbo;  the  youth  replied 
that  he  was  his  son.  Santa  Anna  ordered  that  he 
should  be  released,  had  him  brought  to  the  Palace, 
and  ordered  many  nice  clothes  for  him.  I  was  in 
formed  of  all  of  this  and  as  there  was  an  American 
ship  of  war  at  Vera-Cruz  about  to  sail  to  the  United 
States,  I  wrote  Santa  Anna  a  note  offering  Young 
Phelps  a  passage.  He  replied,  thanking  me  for  the 
offer,  but  declined  it,  saying  that  he  felt  himself  fort 
unate  in  having  it  in  his  power  to  return,  in  some 
degree,  the  kindness  of  Dr.  Phelps  to  him  when  he 
was  a  prisoner  in  Texas,  and  that  he  preferred  send- 


The  Boy  Captive 


291 


ing  his  son  home  at  his  own  expense;  which  he  did, 
giving  him  also  a  draft  on  his  factor  in  Vera  Cruz 
for  whatever  sum  of  money  he  might  ask  for." 


Orlando  Phelps. 


OFF 
FOR  HOME 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


OFF  FOR  HOilE 

BILLIE  had  urged  upon  Santa  Anna  the  priv 
ilege  of  permitting  him  to  go  to  Perote  and 
stay  as  a  prisoner  in  the  place  of  his  brother, 
Captain  Reese.  But  Santa  Anna  steadfastly  refused 
to  allow  the  boy,  who  was  just  up  from  a  bed  of  sick 
ness,  to  do  so  rash  and  imprudent  a  thing.  Ho  had 
given  Billie  his  freedom  to  go  home,  and  not  to 
become  a  voluntary  prisoner. 

General  Waddy  Thompson  relates  the  incident  con 
cerning  Billie  Reese,  as  follows:5*  "Billie  said,  'My 
brother,  Charles,  is  engaged  to  be  married;  and  be 
sides  this,  I  know  that  he  would  be  much  more  useful 
to  my  father  and  mother  than  I  would,  and  I  should 
like,  sir,  to  take  his  place  as  a  prisoner,  and  let  him 
go  home.  "In  this,"  says  General  Thompson,  "he  was 
not  acting  a  part;  he  spoke  under  deep  excitement 
and  with  a  glistening  eye,  and  I  do  not  know  that  this 
was  the  only  moist  eye  in  the  room. ' ' 

Billie  had  taken  the  well-meant  advice  of  Santa 
Anna  and  gone  home.  Even  if  Santa  Anna  had 
granted  Billie 's  request  it  is  doubtful  if  the  gallant 
Captain  Charles  Reese  would  have  accepted  the  sac 
rifice;  he  was  the  soul  of  honor,  and  must  have  suf- 


Recollections  of  Mexico,  page  98. 


294  The  Boy  Captive 

fered  much  distress  because  of  having  permitted  his 
younger  brother  to  come  upon  this  hazardous  expe 
dition. 

General  Waddy  Thompson  was  captivated  with  the 
artlessness  of  Billie's  generous  nature  and  did  all  he 
could  to  help  the  young  Texan. 

But  Billie  was  gone,  and  like  Saul,  he  breathed  out 
threatenings  and  slaughters.  Even  Santa  Anna  was 
grimly  amused,  for  he  told  a  friend  that  he  had  said 
to  this  young  Texan:  "What  is  the  use  of  freeing 
you  Texans?  You'll  come  right  back  to  fight  me." 
He  was  thinking  of  the  previous  lot  of  men  of  the 
Santa  Fe  Expedition.  To  his  astonishment  Billie  an 
swered  promptly :  ' '  Yes,  Sir,  I  suppose  we  will ! ' ' 

Some  little  time  after  Billie's  departure,  Orlando 
bade  farewell  to  Juan  and  the  pleasures  of  the  Mexi 
can  capital.  General  Santa  Anna  graciously  gave 
him  a  permit  to  stop  at  Perote  and  see  his  less  fortu 
nate  comrades.  Billie  too,  had  been  given  the  same 
privilege  and  found  upon  arriving  at  the  grim  for 
tress  that  General  Green  and  his  brother,  Dan  Henrie, 
and  John  Twohig  had  an  excellent  scheme  mapped 
out  for  their  escape,  and  he  might  take  the  comforting 
assurance  to  his  parents  that  they  would  soon  see  them 
all  at  home,  and  also  that  those  of  the  boys  who  cared 
to  risk  it  with  them,  could  do  the  same  thing-  Orlando 
also  was  intrusted  with  this  secret  but  the  letters  they 
gave  him  for  the  friends  in  Brazoria  said  nothing  of 
the  hazardous  scheme.  Though  Orlando  took  along 


The  Boy  Captive  295 

the  story  of  "the  black  beans,"  he  was  able  to  assure 
them  that  many  friends  were  trying  to  secure  their 
freedom. 

In  the  letter  he  wrote  to  Juan  he  spoke  little  of  their 
unpleasant  situation,  but  he  did  remember  to  tell  him 
that  the  moat  was  200  feet  wide,  and  twenty  feet 
deep,  and  could  be  flooded  with  water  in  case  of  a 
siege.  He  also  wrote  that  "the  boys"  celebrated  the 
twenty-first  of  April  (the  anniversary  of  the  Battle 
of  San  Jacinto)  by  making  an  enormous  egg-nog. 
"They  had  thirty  dozen  eggs,  seven  gallons  of  vino 
mescal,  and  as  much  asses'  milk,  and  a  big  loaf  of 
sugar.  Colonel  Fisher,  Captain  Reese  and  Lieutenant 
Clarke  beat  up  the  eggs,  and  Sailing  Master  Lyon 
pounded  the  sugar.  General  Green  was  in  his  element 
"bossing  the  job,"  and  Dan  Henrie  warbled:  I 
reckon  he  got  some  of  the  vino  mescal  without  waiting 
for  the  trimmings.  All  the  boys  came  in  to  help  drink 
it.  I  suppose  the  Mexicans  thought  it  was  a  Texan 
Saint  day.  Trimble  got  real  gay  and  hooted  like  an 
owl,  and  they  all  were  shouting  out  toasts.  Dan 
Henrie  sang  a  "Soldier's  Tear,"  while  the  others 
sang  something  else  at  the  same  time.  Can't  you  im 
agine  the  racket?  They  banged  their  old  chains  on 
the  stone  floors  to  keep  time.  Trimble  goes  by  the 
name  of  "Tecolote"  (screech-owl)  among  the  Mexi 
cans." 

But  full  as  the  letter  was,  it  told  nothing  of  the 
plan  for  escape  that  the  men  had  made.  Orlando 


296  The  Boy  Captive 

was  too  wise  to  trust  such  a  secret  to  the  uncertainty 
of  a  Mexican  mail  bag. 

Juan's  father  had  by  this  time  recovered  and  was 
growing  more  anxious  each  day  to  start  home,  so  it 
was  now  the  boy's  time  to  make  a  move  in  the  great 
game  of  chance  in  which  he  proved  himself  a  skilled 
player.  So  without  fear  or  trepidation  he  approached 
the  ever  grave,  dignified,  and  seemingly  unapproach 
able  Dictator  and  said: 

''Your  Excellency,  my  father  is  now  quite  well, 
and  is  very  anxious  to  go  home.  You  have  shown 
me  great  kindness — at  first  I  did  not  realize  how 
great  that  kindness  was.  I  am  only  a  boy  and  did 
not  know  what  being  a  prisoner  meant.  Now,  I  know, 
I  have  seen  my  father,  he  is  willing  for  me  to  remain 
and  accept  an  education  in  one  of  your  fine  schools. 
You  made  me  an  offer.  I  did  not  know  at  the  time 
what  you  were  offering.  Now  that  I  have  had  time  to 
study  up  your  wonderful  city  I  know  a  little  more, 
and  as  I  have  always  had  a  deep  desire  to  get  a  good 
education,  and  father  says  it  will  be  a  long  time  before 
there  are  good  schools  and  colleges  in  Texas,  and  as 
father  is  now  ready  to  go — if  Your  Excellency  will 
make  the  arrangements,  he  will  start  home  at  once." 

Several  prominent  men  were  that  morning  present 
with  Santa  Anna,  and  every;  one  turned  upon  this 
brave  little  hero. 

"Your  Excellency,  if  you.  wHl  send  my  father  at 


The  Boy  Captive  297 

once,  I  shall  be  glad  to  remain  in  Mexico  and  accept 
your  generous  offer  of  an  education." 

Without  taking  his  eyes  from  the  boy,  Santa  Anna 
said  to  his  secretary :  ' '  Issue  an  order  for  the  release 
of  Seiior  Hill,  send  him  sufficient  money  to  meet  his 
present  expenses  and  see  that  when  he  is  ready  to 
leave  for  Texas  he  has  safe  escort  to  Vera  Cruz  and 
free  passage  on  the  first  sailing  vessel  for  a  Texas 
port. ' '  A  sigh  of  relief  emanated  from  the  interested 
group. 

"When  your  brother  comes,  I  will  do  the  same  for 
him.  I  will  see  your  father  and  talk  over  your  future. 
Now  go  to  him  quickly,  mi  siempre  hijito"  (always 
my  son),  and  give  him  my  compliments  and  tell  him 
he  is  to  go  home  at  once." 

The  radiant  smile  that  Juan  gave  his  great  friend 
seemed  to  cast  a  glow  of  good  feeling  over  all,  and 
the  over-joyed  boy  hastened  to  obey  the  kindly  order. 
He  and  the  orderly  had  a  joyful  neck  to  neck  race  on 
the  broad  highway,  that  led  to  the  hospital. 

Out  of  breath  Juan  rushed  to  his  father,  telling  him 
that  he  was  to  be  sent  home  at  once  and  Mr.  Hill 
though  overjoyed,  gave  the  boy  some  wholesome  ad 
vice  which  was  gratefully  accepted. 

"You  see,  John,"  said  Mr.  Hill,  "we  are  not  going 
to  be  helped  by  our  President  for  he  says  he  sent 
General  Somervelle  to  the  border,  and  that  we  crossed 
over  the  river  without  his  orders.  Our  men  have  not 
much  chance  to  get  free,  for  Santa  Anna  has  just  sent 


298  The  Boy  Captive 


the  Santa  Fe  men  home.  Santa  Anna  says  he  will 
treat  you  like  a  son  and  after  a  while  you  may  come 
home  to  see  us  all.  You  will  have  chances  I  could 
never  hope  to  give  you,  for  it  will  be  a  long  time 
before  Texas  can  have  colleges.  I  know  your  mother 
will  feel  mighty  bad  not  to  see  you  come  back,  but 
she  won't  feel  so  bad  when  she  knows  all  about  it. 
She  will  be  proud  of  you,  and  will  want  you  to  study 
hard  and  be  a  good  boy. ' ' 

If  Mr.  Hill  had  any  doubts  upon  any  points  in 
volved,  he  at  least  comforted  Juan,  who  really  liked 
his  new  surroundings,  but  his  thoughts  turned  more 
upon  his  mother's  disappointment  than  his  own  feel 
ings.  The  thought  that  she  would  be  glad  of  his 
opportunity  to  be  educated  removed  his  last  regret, 
and  he  embraced  his  new  life  with  cheerfulness  and 
resolution. 

Alone,  but  not  friendless,  he  was  the  daily  recipient 
of  every  kindness  from  those  about  him.  His  manly 
courage,  his  devotion  to  duty — and  outspoken  love 
of  his  own  country,  his  graceful  acceptance  of  the 
new  conditions  surrounding  him,  his  amiability — and 
gracious  charm  and  tact,  united  with  a  remarkable 
beauty  of  face  and  form,  had  made  a  deep  and  lasting 
impression  upon  his  distinguished  captor  at  Mier,  and 
continued  on  to  others  of  greater  importance  in  the 
history  of  their  country.  Juan  Christopher  Colon  Gil 
was  a  prisoner  of  the  Mexicans,  but  it  was  in  name 
only,  for  he  possessed  the  innate  qualities  of  mind 


The  Boy  Captive  299 

and  heart  which  awaken  admiration,  and  esteem  with 
all  nationalities,  and  the  Mexicans  were  no  exception 
to  the  rule,  and  so  they  became  more  John  Hill's 
prisoners  than  he  was  theirs. 

But  few  young  boys  could  perhaps  have  trodden 
so  successfully  this  narrow  path,  as  did  our  young 
hero. 

Within  a  fortnight  Juan  was  informed  that  his 
brother  with  other  Texans  had  passed  through  the 
city,  but  they  were  not  permitted  to  stop,  and  were 
hurried  on  to  the  dismal  prison  of  Perote.  Under 
much  excitement  he  ran  breathlessly  to  Santa  Anna 
whom  he  met  as  he  was  about  to  enter  his  carriage. 
He  respectfully  approached  him,  and  after  the  usual 
courteous  greetings  he  said:  "Sefior  General  Presi- 
dente,  my  brother  passed  through  the  city  a  little 
while  ago,  but  was  not  permitted  to  stop,  he  is  still 
suffering  from  his  wound;  I  did  not  get  to  see  him, 
but  Your  Excellency,  will  you  not  release  him  now 
and  allow  him  to  go  home  ? ' ' 

Santa  Anna  assured  the  boy  that  he  would  do  so, 
and  at  once  issued  the  order  and  dispatched  an  or 
derly  to  notify  the  guards  that  Jeffrey  Hill,  the  Texas 
prisoner,  was  to  be  released  at  once,  and  an  escort  be 
given,  and  clothing  and  money  were  at  the  same  time 
sent  him  to  defray  his  expenses  to  Yera  Cruz,  thence 
to  his  home  in  Texas. 


JUAN'S  LATER 
CAREER 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


JUAN'S  LATER  CAREER. 

N  SEPTEMBER,  1843,  Juan  entered  Mineria 
College  and  very  happy  he  was,  too,  for  now 
he  had  Augustin  and  Manuel  Tornel  for  his 
daily  companions.  He  found  that  he  was  in  reality  the 
third  son  of  General  Tornel,  was  blessed  with  "two 
nationalities,"  and  did  not  have  to  fight  either.  He 
studied  diligently,  and  the  family  in  the  farm  house 
on  the  Colorado  heard  regularly  from  him  and  re 
joiced  that  he  was  happy  in  his  foreign  surroundings. 
In  a  year,  by  his  good  record  in  his  studies  and 
amiable  manners,  he  was  placed  in  charge  of  his  dor 
mitory,  a  much  coveted  honor  among  his  schoolmates, 
and  later  on,  he  became  professor  of  English  in  this 
great  college,  and  on  his  marriage  took  up  his  life 
within  the  walls  of  this  magnificent  building.  His 
popularity  increased  with  years  both  with  the  boys 
and  the  professors.  But  on  each  Sunday  afternoon, 
according  to  a  promise  made  long  before,  he  made  his 
regular  call  upon  General  Santa  Anna  and  his  good 
wife,  joining  them  in  their  drives  or  in  meeting  their 
friends  and  neighbors  in  the  palace.  To  some  it  may 
seem  strange  that  any  influence,  however  strong,  could 
be  produced  by  this  boy's  natural  enemies,  which 
would  induce  him  even  temporarily  to  remain  in 
Mexico  and  receive  kindnesses  and  an  education  from 


302  The  Boy  Captive 


the  greatest  men  of  the  time,  especially  from  Santa 
Anna,  and  finally  that  his  whole  life  should  continue 
among  these  people.  In  gracefully  accepting  kind 
nesses  from  the  distinguished  men  of  Mexico,  Mr. 
Hill  did  not  relinquish  his  identity  with  Texas,  and 
a  boy  with  ideals  so  high  could  not  fail  to  graciously 
acknowledge  the  continuous  and  unfailing  attentions 
and  and  interest  of  those  about  him,  even  if  they  did 
come  from  enemies  of  his  country. 

The  unaffected  kindness  of  the  distinguished  men 
into  whose  hands  the  boy  fell,  their  great  culture, 
ability,  and  their  extreme  considerateness  of  his  loved 
ones,  to  say  nothing  of  the  charm  of  life  among  the 
Latins,  captivated  and  held  this  young  life  under  a 
mysterious  and  romantic  spell.  But,  throughout  his 
life,  in  mind,  heart  and  spirit,  John  Christopher  Co 
lumbus  Hill  was  ever  loyally  devoted  and  attached  to 
Texas.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Texas  Veterans'  As 
sociation,  and  for  many  years,  each  year  found  him  in 
attendance  upon  their  meetings.  He  never  failed  to 
speak  out  in  defense  of  Texas,  not  even  when  under 
the  greatest  peril  himself. 

When  the  American  troops  entered  the  city,  young 
Hill  found  himself  constantly  employed  in  serving 
both  sides.  It  was  through  his  intercession  that  the 
American  soldiers  were  removed  from  the  Minera  Col 
lege.  He  was  then  eighteen,  and  manly  beyond  his 
years.  Mexicans  and  Americans  alike  appealed  to 
him.  Priests  came  to  him  for  the  benefit  of  hig 


The  Boy  Captive  305 

English  and  help  in  many  ways,  until  he  was  known 
and  called  by  the  nickname :  pano  de  lagrimas"  which 
meant  that  he  wiped  away  the  tears  from  people's 
eyes;  a  very  nice  nickname,  though  the  writer,  when 
an  old  man  who  was  eye-witness  of  many  of  Juan's 
kindly  deeds  told  her  about  it;  the  old  man  was  still 
living  in  the  house  near  the  Minera  where  he  had  a 
barber  shop  at  the  time  of  the  American  invasion. 

The  war  made  little  interruption  in  Juan's  studies 
and  in  1850  he  was  graduated  with  honors  as  a  mining 
engineer  from  the  good  school  of  the  Minera.  He  was 
appointed  to  a  fine  position  in  the  reduction  works  of 
the  San  Miguel  Regla.  From  this  on,  he  held  one  posi 
tion  after  another,  the  best  among  the  gifts  of  the  re 
public,  for  good  fortune  ever  attended  his  footsteps.  For 
years  at  a  time  he  never  heard  one  word  of  English 
nor  saw  an  American  face.  Would  it  not  seem  natu 
ral  that  the  law  of  environment  would  overcome  the 
force  of  early  ties  and  impressions?  The  fact  is  not 
able,  that  though  sharing  the  highest  honors  of  the 
college  with  native  Mexicans — a  guest  of  the  govern 
ment  receiving  his  diplomas  just  as  if  he  were  a  citi 
zen,  he  never  renounced  his  allegiance  to  the  United 
United  States  nor  to  Texas — never  exercised  the  right 
of  franchise  in  either  his  adopted  or  his  native  land. 
The  thought  always  remained,  however,  that  he  would 
return  to  Texas  and  resume  his  old  relations  among 
the  scenes  of  his  earlier  years.  This  he  attempted  to 
do  several  times,  but  each  time  he  returned  to  Mexico. 


306  The  Boy  Captive 


There  were  his  strongest  ties,  his  loved  ones,  his  life's 
companions.  He  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Mexico's 
greatest  men.  Saw  his  patron,  Santa  Anna,  banished 
to  grim  Perote,  and  from  his  native  land  saw  Maxmil- 
lian's  brief  court  rise  and  fall. 

But  again  he  was  taken  captive  on  Mexican  soil. 
Love  in  the  guise  of  a  dreamy-eyed  senorita,  called  to 
him,  "Rindan  sus  armas!"  "Surrender."  The  sur 
render  was  complete  and  instantaneous.  He  married 
a  sister  of  Segrada,  a  noted  painter,  whose  works 
adorn  the  walls  of  the  Mexican  art  gallery. 

Thirteen  years  had  elapsed  since  he  bade  his  mother 
and  little  sisters  farewell,  before  he  returned  to  them 
a  man  with  a  heart  as  loyal  and  loving  as  the  dark- 
eyed  lad  who  rode  away  on  his  pony  on  that  fair 
Indian  summer  morning  in  September,  1842. 

Thirteen  years  before  he  set  forth  as  a  soldier  full 
of  revenge,  resolved  to  destroy  or  be  destroyed;  he 
returned  to  ask  permission  to  wed  a  daughter  of  the 
old-time  enemy. 

He  received  his  parent's  blessings  and  returned  to 
the  City  of  Mexico.  His  happy  married  life  was 
crowned  with  four  lovely,  beloved  children. 

The  fact  that  his  benefactor  and  friend,  the  great 
Dictator,  Santa  Anna,  had  been  exiled  and  returned, 
and  finally  died  in  poverty  and  filled  a  pauper's 
grave ;  and  that  his  good  wife,  Dona  Dolores  de  Tosta, 
rests  in  the  same  grave  in  the  cemetery  of  the  Tepayac 
filled  his  mind  with  saddest  thoughts.  To  these  faith- 


The  Boy  Captive  307 


ful  friends  of  his  early  helpless  youth,  the  Boy  Cap 
tive  was  ever  loyal  and  faithful.  In  every  way  that 
lay  in  his  power  did  he  seek  to  ameliorate  their  help 
less  and  saddened  condition. 

Having  faithfully  performed  his  sacred  mission  of 
"taking  care  of  father  and  Jeff,"  the  curtain  goes 
down  upon  the  life  of  a  boy  which  should  be  an  inspi 
ration  to  all  the  young  people  who  read  this  faithful 
story. 

History  records  no  greater  triumph  of  precocious 
heroism.  Charles  XII,  at  eighteen,  led  the  men  who 
conquered  Denmark;  Fox  entered  the  comons  at  nine 
teen,  and  Pope  sang  in  numbers  at  twelve,  but  neither 
of  them  untutored  and  alone  combines  in  a  single  act 
as  did  the  young  Texan  hero,  the  courage  of  youth 
with  the  character  of  mellow  age. 


ADDENDA 


Juan  C.   C.   Hill,   the  Boy  Captive,   and  his   daughter  and   two  granddaug-hte 
who   were   educated   in    the   public  schools  of  Austin,  Texas. 


ADDENDA. 

A  FEW  words  as  to  the  fate  of  General  Pedro 
Ampudia.  In  connection  with  the  "Boy 
Captive  of  Mier, ' '  and  for  his  great  kindness 
to  him,  the  name  of  General  Ampudia  will  be  remem 
bered  with  interest.  As  General  in  command  of  a  di 
vision,  he  capitulated  to  the  American  troops  at  Mon 
terey  in  1846,  and  in  1852  he  joined  Santa  Anna  in 
his  "Plan  de  Jalisco,"  and  remained  with  him  until 
his  (Santa  Anna's)  fall  in  1854.  He  generally  sided 
with  the  church  party,  and  after  the  fall  of  Santa 
Anna  he  lived  as  a  private  citizen  at  his  hacienda  "La 
Soledad,"  in  the  state  of  San  Luis  Potosi,  (now 
called  Villa  de  Diaz  Guiterrez).  In  1862  he  again 
joined  the  church  party  and  incorporated  himself 
with  the  forces  of  General  Miramon  to  sustain  the 
Empire;  after  its  fall,  General  Ampudia  returned  to 
San  Luis  Potosi,  and  died  there  in  the  fall  of  1864,  or 
spring  of  1865. 

The  friendship  of  General  Ampudia  for  the  boy 
captive  remained  to  the  last  day  of  the  General's  life. 

One  of  the  incidents  which  speaks  volumes  for  the 
gratitude  of  the  Boy  Captive  for  his  distinguished 
captor  at  Mier,  he  related  to  the  Author  that  a  young 
brother  of  General  Ampudia,  who  had  also  espoused 
the  cause  of  the  Empire  was  captured  by.  the  Mexi 
cans  and  was  sentenced  to  be  shot.  Juan  heard  of 


312  The  Boy  Captive 

it  and  at  once  determined,  if  possible,  to  save  his  life. 
Confiding  in  a  lady  friend  who  was  in  sympathy,  they 
went  at  once  to  the  prison  where  the  lady  exchanged 
clothing  with  the  prisoner  and  Juan  walked  proudly 
out,  for  he  had  saved  the  life  of  young  Ampudia. 

TEXANS  RELEASED  FROM  PEROTE. 

Letters  from  General  Ampudia  continued  through 
out  his  life.  Some  of  these  have  been  read  by  the 
author. 

When  Big  Foot  and  the  other  prisoners  were  re 
leased  from  Perote,  says  Big  Foot,  ' '  A  few  miles  from 
Jalapa  we  were  stopped  by  a  company  of  robbers  on 
horse  back,  eleven  in  number,  who  demanded  our 
money.  We  told  them  that  we  had  been  prisoners  a 
long  time,  had  just  been  liberated,  and  were  not  flush 
with  money.  They  asked  if  we  were  Texans  and  if 
we  had  passports.  I  handed  them  mine  signed  by 
Santa  Anna.  They  said  Santa  Anna  was  a  scoundrel 
and  wanted  to  know  why  the  Texans  didn't  kill  him 
while  they  had  him.  I  told  them  that  if  I  had  had  the 
keeping  of  him  he  would  not  have  troubled  Mexico 
any  more. 

"They  offered  to  keep  us  company  to  Vera  Cruz 
and  protect  us  from  further  molestation.  Night  came 
on,  they  turned  off  the  main  road  and  conducted  us 
to  a  large  ranch  or  hacienda  that  appeared  to  be  a 
sort  of  rendezvous  for  gentlemen  of  their  profession. 


The  Boy  Captive  313 

When  the  robbers  entered,  the  people  in  the  house 
exclaimed:  'How  are  you  Colonel?  How  are  you, 
Major?"  and  other  like  expressions. 

' '  Here  an  excellent  supper  was  served  and  we  were 
cordially  invited  to  partake  of  it.  A  variety  of  fruit 
and  excellent  wine  were  placed  on  the  table.  I  asked 
the  robber  chief  if  that  was  their  usual  style  of  living, 
and  when  he  repied  that  it  was,  I  told  him  if  there  was 
a  vacancy  in  the  corps,  I  should  like  to  enlist.  This 
pleased  the  robbers  and  they  drank  the  health  of  the 
'gringo'  in  a  full  bumper.  The  next  morning  they 
filled  our  haversacks  with  provisions,  gave  us  a  half 
dollar  apiece,  escorted  us  back  to  the  road  and  bade 
us  adios  with  many  expressions  of  good  will-" 

When  the  Texans  were  recaptured  after  the  affairs 
at  El  Salado,  Big  Foot  thus  described  his  own  per 
sonal  appearance: 

"As  for  myself,"  said  he,  "I  had  worn  from  neces 
sity  the  same  suit  of  clothes  I  had  on  when  we  made 
our  escape  from  the  guard,  and  after  traveling  in 
them  all  this  time  over  dusty  roads  and  sleeping  in 
them  at  night  on  the  ground,  it  can  be  easily  imagined 
my  costume  was  not  exactly  suitable  for  a  ball-room 
or  a  fashionable  assembly.  But  little  was  left  of  my 
shirt,  my  hat  had  long  since  gone  by  the  board,  and  in 
its  place  my  head  was  partially  protected  from  the 
sun  by  a  red  cotton  handkerchief,  wrapped  around  it 
like  a  Turkish  turban.  I  had  but  one  shoe  left  which 
was  in  a  very  dilapidated  condition,  and  in  lieu  of 


314  The  Boy  Captive 

the  other,  a  rawhide  sandal  strapped  on  my  foot  with 
leathern  thongs.  My  coat  was  tattered  and  torn  by 
thorns  and  like  Joseph's,  from  frequent  mending  with 
all  sorts  of  materials,  was  of  many  colors.  The 
remnant  of  my  pantaloons  hung  upon  me  in  shreds 
that  were  bound  together  by  thongs  or  strings — add 
to  this  a  countenance  that  had  been  guiltless  of  a  thor 
ough  cleaning,  well,  I  am  ashamed  to  say  how  long. 
Such  a  beauty  did  I  grow  that  if  my  old  sweetheart, 
Jenny  Foster  could  have  seen  me,  her  heart  would 
have  relented  and  she  would  have  reversed  the  cruel 
decision  which  sent  me  'packing  off'  to  Texas  some 
years  before. 

One  remarkable  characteristic  of  this  old  pioneer 
was  his  ability  under  the  heaviest  trials,  to  see  and 
enjoy  the  humorous  side  of  everything.  He  relates 
an  amusing  incident  of  the  occasion  of  the  Mier  pris 
oners  being  removed  from  one  part  of  Mexico  City 
to  another.  He  said,  "some  of  the  lowest  class  gath 
ered  about  them,  old  women,  men  and  boys,  and  began 
calling  out,  'down  with  the  heretics,'  and  other  like 
expressions,  until  at  last  the  guard  told  the  mob  if 
they  did  not  move  on  he  would  turn  the  whole  '  Texas 
Cannibals'  loose  on  them.  The  Texans  understood 
what  he  said  and  to  carry  out  the  joke  and  make  a 
diversion  in  our  favor,  three  or  four  of  us  grabbed  as 
many  old  women  and  boys  who  had  ventured  in  our 
reach  and  made  out  we  were  going  to  eat  them  with 
out  salt  or  pepper.  I  clinched  an  old  squaw  who  had 


The  Boy  Captive  315 

been  making  herself  prominent  and  took  a  bite  at  her 
neck,  but  it  was  tougher  than  a  ten-year-old  buffalo, 
and  though  I  bit  at  will — and  can  crack  a  hickory  nut 
with  my  grinders — I  could  make  no  impression  on 
it  whatever.*' 

' '  This  unexpected  demonstration  on  the  part  of  the 
'gringos'  took  the  mob  by  surprise  and  they  scattered 
like  partridges,  but  we  were  molested  no  more  that 
day." 

True  to  the  predictions  of  Santa  Anna,  the  men  of 
Mier  who  had  been  sent  home  did  not  fail  to  again 
enter  the  service  of  the  United  States  and  bear  arms 
against  their  old-time  enemy. 

In  reading  the  records  of  the  war  between  Mexico 
and  the  United  States,  we  find  the  names  of  many  of 
our  friends  of  the  Mier  Expedition.  Billie  and  his 
brother,  Captain  Reese,  fought  with  honor  at  Monte 
rey,  and  we  read  that  Gilbert  Brush  was  wounded. 
Johnnie  McMullen  was  an  officer,  as  was  our  friend 
Big  Foot  "Wallace.  Dan  Henrie  Drake  not  only  fought 
and  was  captured  again,  but  ran  away  from  a  whole 
company  in  broad  daylight,  got  back  to  his  own  com 
pany  and  came  up  bravely  to  meet  the  enemy  again. 

Captain  Reese  returned  home  and  married  the  girl 
of  his  choice  to  whom  he  was  engaged  during  the  pe 
riod  of  his  imprisonment.  His  survivors  reside  in 
Brazoria  County.  Billie  also  married  and  emigrated 
to  California,  where  he  died  in  1851,  leaving  children. 

Orlando  Phelps  still  resided  at  the  home  of  his 


316  The  Boy  Captive 

early  youth  in  Brazoria  County,  and  left  several  chil 
dren  now  living  in  Houston,  Texas. 

Harvey  Sellers  married  and  reared  a  family,  and 
enjoyed  a  successful  business  career  at  Galveston. 

All  of  these  boys  who  were  mere  children  at  the 
time  of  this  expedition,  when  Texas  needed  their  help, 
developed  into  splendid  men  who  were  an  honor  and 
credit  to  their  country.  Sam  Walker,  the  scout  who 
was  captured  before  the  battle  of  Mier,  returned  an 
officer  to  revenge  his  old  wrongs  and  died  a  hero's 
death  on  the  battlefield  at  Monterey  near  the  very 
prison  where  the  Texans  were  confined  when  enroute 
to  Mexico  City. 

On  February  14,  1904,  James  Monroe  Hill,  the 
elder  brother  who  gave  John  his  rifle,  died  at  Austin, 
Texas,  at  the  age  of  eighty-five.  Two  days  later,  John 
C.  C.  Hill,  the  hero  of  this  narrative,  passed  away  at 
Monterey,  Mexico,  at  the  age  of  seventy-five. 

It  is  very  interesting  to  read  of  the  wonderful  regi 
ment  of  Texas  Rangers  of  which  our  old  friend,  Cap 
tain  Jack  Hayes,  was  the  honored  young  Colonel. 
But  the  best  friends  must  part  and  so  we  will  say  to 
all  our  brave  comrades  of  the  Mier  Expedition. 

"ADIOS." 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF 
THE  BOY  CAPTIVE  OF  MIER. 


Green's  Journal  of  the  Texan  Expedition 

against  Mier Harper  &  Bro.,  1845 

History  of  Texas Brown 

History  of  Texas  • Morphis 

History  of  Texas Pennybacker 

History  of  Texas Thrall 

Republic  of  Texas Anson  Jones 

Santa  Fe  Expedition Kendall 

The  Texas  Rangers Reid 

Flowers  and  Fruits Morrell 

Texas,  The  Coming  Empire McDaniel  &  Taylor 

Texas  Indian  Fighters Sowell 

Texas  • Mrs.  Holley 

Texas  Almanac 

The  Mexican  War  and  Its  Heroes 

San  Antonio  De  Bexar Cornor 

Recollections  of  Mexico Gen.  Waddy  Thompson 

Travels  in  Mexico Gilliam 

Texas Olmstead 

Letters  of  Madame  Calderon  de  la  Barca 

London,  Chapman  &  Hall 

A  Study  of  Mexico Wells 

Autobiography  of  Joe  Jefferson 

Mexico Priests  and  Peasants  by  Wilson 


320  The  Boy  Captive 

Mexico  of  To-day  • Griffin 

Letters  of  Juan  de  Dios  Peza Brantz  Mayer 

Mexico  as  it  was  and  as  it  is Brantz  Mayer 

Newell's  History  of  Texas 1838 

Edward's  History  of  Texas 1836 

Kennedy's  History,  2  vols 1842 

St.  Isle  or  Texiana Chas.  Hooten,  London,  1847 

Bancrofts  North  Mexican  States,  2  vols 

McCullough's    Texas    Kangers    and    Scouting 

Expedition 1848 

Mejico  Viejo Luis  Gonzales  Obregon 

Repubb'c  of  Mexico Antonio  Garcia  Cubas 

Face  to  Face  with  the  Mexicans 

Fanny  Chambers  Gooch  Iglehart 

Frederick  E.  Guernsey  in Mexican  Herald 

The  Awakening  of  a  Nation Charles  F.  Lummis 

Old  Mexico  and  Her  Lost  Provinces 

Wm.  Henry  Bishop 

Harper  and  Brothers 

Life  of  Sam  Houston  •   Crane 

Texas Mason  Bros.,  New  York 

West  Texas A  Journey  Through,  1841 

Texan  Emigrant Cincinnati,  1840 

Early  Times  in  Texas John  C.  Duval 

Life  of  Big  Foot  Wallace John  C.  Duval 


AN 
ARMISTICE 


AN  ARMISTICE. 

During  the  Mexican  "War  in  1848,  and  five  years 
after  the  Mier  men  had  been  decimated,  an  armistice 
was  agreed  upon  between  the  two  contending  armies. 
The  American  army  was  at  Concepcion,  the  most 
advanced  post  of  the  army,  and  twenty  men  of  Gen 
eral  Walter  P.  Lane's  command,  knowing  they  were 
only  about  fifty  leagues  from  the  Haciendo  de  Salado, 
where  on  March  24,  1843,  the  Mier  prisoners  had 
been  decimated,  resolved  to  make  the  effort  to  exhume 
their  remains  and  bring  them  to  their  own  country. 
Five  of  the  men  drew  beans  at  El  Salado,  and  John 
Dusenberry  and  James  Seely  remembered  the  exact 
spot  where  their  comrades  had  been  buried.  By 
forced  marches  they  reached  the  spot,  but  the  priests 
of  the  village  and  other  important  dignitaries  bitterly 
opposed  their  removal,  but  finally  the  Texans  carried 
their  point.  On  reaching  the  spot  they  found  a  cross 
had  been  erected  over  their  graves,  and  the  ground 
had  been  consecrated. 

The  kind-hearted  Mexican  women  kept  the  grave 
and  the  cross  decorated  with  flowers  and  there  they 
knelt  and  made  their  devotions.  When  the  earth  was 
removed  and  the  cross  fell,  the  cry  of  "Por  Dios"  or 
"Oh!  God!"  went  around  the  circle.  The  remains, 
even  to  the  smallest  bone,  were  placed  in  sacks,  put 
upon  pack  horses  and  by  forced  marches,  they  safely 
reached  Concepcion.  General  Woll,  the  American 
20 


324  The  Boy  Captive 


commander,  made  the  offer  of  free  transportation  to 
Galveston  and  Mr.  Dusenberry  reached  La  Grange, 
Texas,  in  June  1848,  this  having  been  the  point  de 
cided  upon  by  the  Americans  for  their  final  resting 
place.  On  September  18th  of  the  same  year,  the  Daw- 
son  men  who  fell  in  the  fight  at  Salado  Creek,  six 
miles  southeast  of  San  Antonio,  whose  remains  had 
been  disinterred,  were  reinterred  with  the  Mier  men, 
and  now  rest  on  Monument  Hill  in  La  Grange.  A 
monument  was  erected  to  them  at  that  place  and  the 
State  of  Texas  also  erected  another  which  stands  in 
the  court  house  yard,  on  which  are  suitable  inscrip 
tions  telling  of  their  brave  and  heroic  deeds. 

List  of  Texans  decimated  at  El  Salado,  Mexico, 
March  25,  1849 :  L.  L.  Cash,  James  D.  Cocke,  Capt. 
Wm.  Eastland,  who  went  from  La  Grange,  Edward 
Este,  Robert  Harris,  Thos.  L.  Jones,  Patrick  Mahan, 
James  Ogden,  Charles  Roberts,  William  Rowan,  J.  L. 
Shepherd,  J.  M.  N.  Thompson,  James  N.  Torrey, 
Humboldt  James,  Henry  Whaling,  M.  C.  Wing,  mak 
ing  seventeen  in  all. 


GLOSSARY 


GLOSSARY. 

Mr.  Charles  F.  Lummis  in  his  admirable  book: 
"The  Awakening  of  a  Nation"  has  this  to  say  in  re 
gard  to  our  debt  to  the  Castillian  language:  "With 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  frontiers  ,the  innumerable  drift 
wood  of  the  Castillian  tongue  has  lodged  here,  there 
and  everywhere.  And  where  it  once  came  it  was 
never  forgotten  *****  Two-thirds  of  the  geo 
graphical  names  in  the  New  World  to-day,  are  of 
Spanish  derivation,  and  the  same  linguistic  tricks 
are  abundant  in  every  other  walk  of  American  life." 

Remembering  this,  and  the  extensive  Spanish  colo 
nial  possessions  of  the  United  States  of  America,  and 
the  need  of  a  more  general  knowledge  of  the  Castil 
lian  language,  we  should  find  the  study  of  a  speaking 
knowledge  equally  one  of  profit  and  pleasure.  With 
this  end  in  view,  the  reader  will  find  a  brief  summary 
of  the  pronunciation  and  glossary  of  a  few  groups  of 
words,  as  well  as  the  Spanish  words  and  phrases  to 
be  found  throughout  this  volume. 

The  Spanish  language  is  spoken  in  the  throat,  not 
forward  on  the  lips,  and  all  words  are  deeply  ac 
cented.  Accentuation  is  as  follows: 

Regularly,  on  the  last  syllable  of  words  ending  in  a 
consonant  other  than  S  and  N. 

Irregularly,  wherever  written  accents  occur. 

The  letters  and  combinations  pronounced  other 
than  English  are  as  follows : 


328  The  Boy  Captive 

i  equals  i  always  as  in  machine,  o  equals  o  always 
as  in  chaos. 

i  equals  i  always  as  in  machine,  o  equals  o  always 
as  in  old. 

u  equals  oo  always  as  in  food  or  u  in  rude. 

i  and  u  are  weak  vowels  and  when  used  together  or 
in  combination  with  a  strong  vowel  form  a  dipthong 
which  must  be  pronounced  as  a  unit  sound.  Spanish 
c  equals  h  before  a,  o,  and  u,  c  and  s  surd,  i,  e,  last 
pronounced  thin  in  Castile  and  other  parts  of 
Spain,  but  not  in  Mexico,  Andalusia  and  practically 
all  of  South  America. 

g  equals  g  hard  as  in  gate  before  a,  o,  u,  g  equals 
h  in  hush,  before  i  and  e — h  silent  always.  11  is  writ 
ten  and  considered  as  one  letter  in  Spanish;  pro 
nounced  like  the  English  11  in  million  in  Castile,  like 
y  in  Mexico. 

Below  will  be  found  the  Spanish  words  with  the 
English   translations  which   will   be   found   as  they 
occur  in  the  book. 
La  Huella  de  los  Espanoles — (The  Footprints  of  the 

Spaniards.) 

La  tierra  del  Fuego — (Land  of  fire  and  heat.) 
Firma — (Signature  in  handwriting.) 
?Quien  Sabe? — (Who  knows.) 
Alamo — (Cottonwood  tree.) 
Alcalde  (Magistrate — a  justice  of  the  peace.) 
Hacendado — (Gentleman  who  owns  plantations.) 
El  Cantaro— (Water  Bottle.) 


The  Boy  Captive  329 


Azotea — (House  top.) 

Feria — (A  fair.) 

Rindan  sus  Armas — (Lay  down  your  arms.) 

Rindanse —  ( Surrender. ) 

Pobricito — (Poor  little  fellow.) 

El  tiene  mucho  valor — (He  has  a  great  deal  of  cour 
age.) 

Mi  hijito — (My  little  son.) 

Queridito — (Dear  little  one.) 

Hijito  mio — (My  little  son.) 

Plaza — (Park  or  open  square-) 

Hombrecito — (Little  man.) 

Hasta  Luego — (I  will  see  you  later.) 

Mozos — (Men  servants.) 

Quiero  comprar  vino — (I  wish  to  buy  wine.) 

Ladrones — (Robbers  or  Bandits.) 

Carretas  de  Rueda  de  Panocha — (Noisy  carts  with 
pancake  wheels.) 

Hacienda —  ( Plantation. ) 

Sombrero —  ( Hat. ) 

Gloria  y  gratidud  (a'al)  bravo  Canales — (Glory  and 
gratitude  to  the  brave  Canales.) 

Eternal  honor  (a'l)  Immortal  Ampudia — (Eternal 
honor  to  the  immortal  Ampudia.) 

Vivas — (Demonstration  of  delight.) 

Centinela  Alerta — (Awake  and  alert.) 

Metate — (Flat  porous  stone  on  which  cor.,  and  other 
household  materials  are  ground.) 

Meson — (Country  tavern  or  wagon  yard.) 


330  The  Boy  Captive 

Escopetas — (A  peculiar  kind  of  gun.) 

Chile — (Meat  cooked  with  much  red  pepper.) 

Tortillas — (Flat    corn    cakes    made    of    corn    meal 

ground  on  metate.) 
Fri  joles —  ( Beans. ) 

Adios  mi  hijito — (Goodbye,  my  little  son.) 
Adios  mi  nino — (Goodbye,  my  child.) 
Dios  te  Bendiga — (May  God  preserve  you.) 
Del    Muchachito    Americano — (The    little    American 

boy.) 

El  Prisionero — (The  boy  prisoner.) 
Zaguan — (Main  hall  of  a  house.) 
Arzobispado — (Archbishop 's  Palace.) 
Dios  Viene — (God  is  coming.) 
Nino  mio. —  (My  child-) 
Huevos — (Eggs.) 

Arrieros — (Mule  or  donkey  drivers.) 
Lazarone's — (ragged  lazy  beggars.) 
Muchacho —  ( Boy. ) 

Calle  de  moneda — (Street  of  money.) 
?E1  Muchachito  se  siente  un  poco  esta  manafia? — (Is 
the  boy  a  little  sad  this  morning?) 
No   se   apure   mas   muchachito — (Don't   worry   any 

more  now  little  boy.) 
Vente  conmigo,  yo  te  ayudare — (Come  with  me.     I 

will  help  you.) 
No  tengas  miedo  hijito  olios,  no  le  haran  nada  a  tu 

padre — (Have  no  fear  my  little  son,  no  no  one  shall 

harm  your  father.) 


The  Boy  Captive  331 


Dona — (A  married  lady.) 

Lindo  Caballero — (Handsome  gentleman.) 

Portero —  ( Doorkeeper. ) 

Pano  de  lagrimas — (Wiping  away  the  tears  from 
people's  eyes,  giving  comfort  to  the  distressed.) 

Buenos  dias  Caballeros,  nos  gustan  mucho  los  Ameri 
canos.  Bien  venidos!  estrangeros!  Bien  venidos! 
— (Good  day,  Gentlemen,  we  like  the  Americans 

very  much.    Welcome,  Strangers,  welcome!) 


THE 


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